5 Carry on Wayward Road, Spiders in the Web
by skyyador
Summary: The road of the Winchester brother continue. They find love and heartache. The road of a hunter is never easy. Is the Winchester luck changing? or is it remaining the same? TRIGGER WARNINGS: detailed rape, abuse, language, self harm, suicidal thoughts. EDITED for minor corrections and paragraph length
1. Chapter 1

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 1

Sam had overslept. He wasn't sure why but he had a rough, emotional night. Oh yeah, he did remember why. His brother. He was going to make Sam leave. He knew he said some hateful things to him, in a way, he didn't mean them, but in a way, he did.

It was things that had been bubbling inside of him for so long, he had to let it out, he couldn't carry it around anymore. He knew he had to apologize. He woke up, showered, changed, prepared himself for the day before heading downstairs. He wasn't wanting breakfast anyhow. As he walked downstairs, he noticed Nancy was sitting on the couch, Beth on the chair, but Dean wasn't there.

He paused, that feeling in his gut told him something wasn't right. He looked around the room. The blue couch Dean had been sleeping on for so many nights, the blanket folded neatly on the end cushion, his pillow, laying on top of it. Nancy sitting beside it with her head lowered.

In the flowered reclining chair sitting beside the couch, Beth sat, looking equally as sad, but with a hint of confusion added. The tv that hung above the fireplace mantle, remained turned off. The room was quiet. The lamp on the table beside the couch, the one that Dean used for his only light for many nights, turned off as well.

The glass that normally sat beside the lamp, the one containing the constant fluid they had to once force into his brother, gone. The table sat empty, with only the lamp that sat on the handmade doily. The table on the other end of the couch, equally matching. He could see through the kitchen doorway, the table they had so many meals at, sat empty. No one in the chairs. The bathroom door that was downstairs, cracked opened.

As Sam finished walking down the steps, Nancy looked up at him, with saddened eyes.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Have you heard from your brother?" Nancy asked.

Now, Sam's confusion matched Beth's. "What? Should I have? Isn't he here?" Sam questioned.

"NO!" Beth was clearly upset, "he's not here! He's gone! So is all his stuff, and his car. Sam, where did he go?"

Sam was shocked to hear what Beth had just said. "I… I don't know" Sam replied, turning to look at Nancy. He had eyes full of sorrow and guilt, mixed with fear. Fear that he made his brother leave.

"Beth, why don't you leave me and Sam to talk alone for a few?" Nancy requested.

As Beth left the room, "Sit down, Sam" Nancy said.

"Where did he go?" Sam had sat down in the chair, "Did he say?"

"He didn't say anything, didn't even leave a note, he was gone when I woke up." Nancy informed him.

Of course, Sam thought, of course he would just run off like that. He couldn't say he expected any different.

"Sam, you said some pretty nasty stuff to him last night" Nancy reminded him.

"Yeah, I know, but, I meant every word of it. I don't want to keep living the life Dad forced on us. I never wanted that life, Dean knew that. I was away. I had gone to college, Dean drug me back into it." Sam was still upset. He wasn't apologizing for what he said.

Nancy slowly shook her head, "you boys have a lot of crap you gotta work through, don't you?" She stood from the couch and walked away.

Dean had drove all night. It had started raining, just a gentle rain. Water drops falling on his windshield, the way he wished the water in his eyes could fall. He hated himself. He's always had a deep-rooted hate for the person he was, but this was even deeper, now.

He wasn't sure what to do, he always had a fear of being alone, now that fear has become a reality. His brother told him to leave, that's what he wanted. He wasn't sure where he was going. He was just driving. The empty road, both behind and in front of him. The moon light had been shining down through the rain clouds, his head lights and what little moon there was, his only line of sight.

The passenger seat sat empty, the tunes turned off, the windshield wipers the only sound filling Dean's ears. The sun began to rise, the rain drops still falling. It didn't stop Dean from aimlessly driving. He was heading anywhere but where he had come from. He continued to drive while the sun raised higher and higher into the sky.

He had stopped at some small-town filling station to fuel his car. He didn't have any interest in getting anything to eat for himself, he wasn't thirsty either, fuel was all he needed, then he was on his way back down the lonely road. He drove as the sun lowered in the sky, until the moon light lit his way once again. He decided he needed to stop and get a room, he was feeling the lack of sleep affecting his ability to drive.

"I need a room with 2 queen… uh…one double bed, please."

He had forgotten, for a moment, that he was alone. He went into his room, alone, dropping his bag on the floor beside the only bed in the room. He left the tv off, didn't have any interest in watching anything. He washed his face in the sink, looking at himself in the mirror.

He was exhausted, he questioned why he even left their home to begin with. He could deal with Sam's hurtful words. He had dealt with their dad's for so many years. But, maybe he was right. Dean had removed his boots and laid on his back on the bed. He started running through his head the words his brother had said to him.

He asked him if he enjoyed it. He had asked him that before. His dad had asked him. The men, the night Sam left, had asked him. Why does everyone keep asking him that? Was there a part of him that made people think he did? He didn't. he never did. Just because he doesn't cry over it doesn't mean he enjoys it.

" _Do you enjoy it, boy? Do you want more? This is what you like isn't it?"_

 _The images flashing through his mind. Images of fists, coming down on him. He could feel the bed under him give with each punch. His stomach, worn out, covered in bruises, the pain radiating through his body. A punch to his face, causing blood to run from his nose. Both his eyes, black and blue. His cheek was burning, he was sure it was split open too. His wrists burned from the ropes that held them in place, rubbing them raw, leaving blood in place of the skin._

 _His shirt had been ripped off, turned into shreds, his feet bare, his pants were off but he was still wearing his boxers. His hands bound together in front of him, but they did little good to protect him. The fists that were hitting him, grabbed his arm, pulling both up at the same time due to the ropes that held them together. Pain radiated through one of his arms._

 _He wasn't sure what had just happened, but it felt like his arm was broken. He tried to look, tried to see who was hurting him, but his eyes were too swollen, or perhaps his vision was just too blurry. He could see the fists, the muscles and strength of the man, but not his face._

" _You're nothing but a girl, a sorry ass, pitiful girl, so, lets treat you like one, what do you say?"_

 _He ripped off Dean's boxers and spread his legs, like a girl, he started to enjoy himself._

" _How does that feel? You like it? Maybe we should go buy you a dress when we're done?" the man said._

 _As the man started enjoying himself more and more the pain radiating through Dean's body got stronger and stronger. Stronger than he ever remembered it being. Until, he couldn't take it anymore. The pain had overwhelmed every inch of his body._

Dean jumped awake.

"SAM!"

His body covered in sweat. He was still fully clothed, in the motel room he had gotten. He looked around, realizing, remembering he was alone. Sam wasn't there to help him. It took him a moment, but he realized it was just a dream. A dream of many things, different moments in his life, all at the same time.

He realized, in his dream, he was only a teenager, maybe younger? Somewhere between 11 and 14 years old. He shook it off, put his boots back on, and set out to find a local bar or liquor store. He found a bar. Perfect for him. It was full of beautiful women and booze, exactly what Dean needed.

He woke in the morning, sneaking out of some woman's room, back to his room to pack his belongings and hit the road. He didn't remember the night. Didn't want to remember the night. Before leaving the motel, he stopped by the lobby, using their computer to do some research. Once he was finished, he set on his way, hitting the road again. This time he had a plan, a purpose, he was heading to Boston, Ohio. Where there appeared to be several people with strange occurrences.

Sam expected his brother to return, but didn't feel bad when he didn't. He knew he'd be back eventually. He was enjoying the break he was getting. He was, for once, the man of the house. He helped Nancy with things that needed to be fixed in the home. He helped her take care of the yard work, and finished the nursery for Beth. She was getting closer and closer to her due date. He enjoyed taking care of them. He enjoyed feeling like a man and not the child Dean saw him as.

"Hey, Sam do you think you could take Beth to the doctor today? I've got some errands to run and it would be a great help if you could do that for me." Nancy asked.

"Yeah, sure, I'd be happy to" Sam replied.

When it was time, he took Beth to her appointment. She wanted him to go back with her, she said the wait gets long and she gets bored. So, he agreed. They sat and talked until the doctor came into the room. Sam felt a little uncomfortable when the doctor checked her, that was a little too intimate for his comfort. Then the doctor announced she wanted to do an ultrasound.

She brought in the machine and rubbed jelly on her stomach. Once she started the ultrasound, the baby's picture showed up on the screen. This was the first time Sam had ever seen anything like this. He was seeing her baby, the baby he saved, live and in person. Black and white, right there on the screen. His little body moving around. He could see each kick, each turn of his head. Beth and the doctor both noticed Sam's amazement. He was mystified. Everything he had seen in his life, the good and the bad, nothing compared to this moment. He was speechless, this moment had taken his breath away.

"Well," the doctor spoke, breaking Sam's mesmerized glare, "It looks like we are going to have us a little boy very soon!" she announced.

"Yeah, in about a month" Beth replied.

"No, sooner, Beth, you are ready to have this baby. I think he's going to come early. I wouldn't be surprised if he comes this week. Have you been having any contractions?"

What the doctor said surprised the both of them.

"No, I haven't." Beth announced.

"Don't be surprised if they start." the doctor informed her.

Beth was so excited, Sam couldn't help but be excited too. She talked the whole way home, talked about baby names, finishing the nursery, she couldn't wait to tell her mom. Beth was so bubbly.

Sam loved that about her. He was used to darkness and anger, this was so much different, so much better. When they got back to the house, Beth was jumping up and down with excitement, telling her mom everything the doctor had said. Sam stood against the wall, smiling. He was just as excited, still amazed by the images he saw of the little one.

Sam loved his new life, he had embraced every moment of it. He had worked hard over the next few days to finish the nursery, getting the crib put together and everything ready for the newest addition. He was living a normal life, with a normal family, as a normal person.

Dean, continued to hunt. He had found himself in some dangerous situations, no one to watch his back, no one to help protect him. He was on a hunt for a werewolf, it got the best of him, leaving deep gashes down his arm and torso. He retrieved back to the room he had rented, pouring his booze on the gashes before swallowing down half the bottle.

He retrieved the needle and thread, beginning to stitch himself up. Damn, he missed his brother, he hated being alone. His biggest fear wasn't being killed on a hunt, it was being killed on a hunt while he was alone. He was afraid no one would know, he would end up being some rotted corpse with an evil spirit. He also got lonely.

He's always had someone to take care of, now, it was only him. But, he wasn't going to let that stop him from doing what his father trained him to do. He was a hunter, and will always be a hunter. Nothing would change that. Nothing would make him be anything but the person he was trained to be.

He had found a vengeful spirit to hunt. He was itching for something mean and nasty. He had a lot of built up emotions he was needing to let out. He didn't expect the spirit to be so nasty, to have the abilities it had. He had cornered it in an abandoned house, on the top floor, in the back, corner room. The spirit threw Dean against the wall, holding him, by the throat, lifting his feet off the ground. It had blocked every chance of inhaling air that Dean had.

His world was going black, his body unable to fight back, he was going limp, physically and mentally. Dean had thought he was finished, he thought this was the end, until the spirit threw him against the wall across the room.

It didn't have to touch him. It was able to throw him around with the flick of a hand. Constantly, over and over the spirit tossed him around like a rag doll, not giving him a chance to recover before throwing him again. He was barely conscious when the spirit threw him, not against the wall but out the window.

Dean was 3 stories up. He had fallen to the ground without mercy. Somehow, managing to survive the fall, but, not without his fair share of injuries. He was knocked out, cold, one of Dean's biggest fears was coming true. This was it. This was the end. He was going to be killed by a monster he hunted, alone, without a savior in sight.

Beth woke Sam, it was 2 am.

"Sam! Sam! I need you, Sam. It hurts so bad!"

Sam jumped awake. "What's wrong? Is everything okay?"

"I think it's time, Sam."

Sam was out of bed and on his feet immediately. He got dressed in a hurry, going to wake Nancy. They both, together, helped Beth to the car. Sam made sure he had grabbed the bag Beth packed for the hospital, along with the car seat. Nancy drove, Sam was too nervous to drive. This is the moment they had all been waiting for.

They got her to the hospital and to the labor room. No one even questioned Sam's presence, in fact, everyone assumed he was the father. Sam didn't set them straight, he had decided they could think what they wanted.

It seemed like a lifetime. Hours ticking by slowly. He rubbed her back, fed her ice chips, held her hand, placed cool, damp rags on her head, talked gently to each other. Sam was there, the entire time, right by her side. It was time! It was time to push. Everything was ready. Sam held her hand, reminding her to breathe.

He was amazed. He stayed by her side, watching the innocent life come into the world. Tears fell, from both Sam and Beth, when the first little cry was made. Sam cut the cord, just like the father. The sweet baby was placed in Beth's arms. Sam just as amazed, wanting to touch him, feel his softness.

She handed him to Sam. He was amazed holding the newborn. The two of them, experiencing this amazing moment together. Sam remained at the hospital until they were discharged. He helped Beth every step of the way. He changed diapers, fed him, and even rocked him to sleep while Beth got some much-needed rest. Once they were back home, nothing changed. Sam continued to help with the little one, who Beth decided to name 'Samuel Dean' after the two who had saved her and little Samuel.

Sam fit into the father role without a problem. He would let Beth sleep while he woke at midnight, 2 am, 4 am… to take care of little Samuel. Nancy was impressed. She had watched Sam go from the broken person he was when he brought Dean there to heal, to the man, the father figure, he had become. Sam wasn't sure how to be a father, he didn't exactly have the best role model, but he knew what he always wanted. He knew what not to do, and he knew how to follow his heart.

Time went by so quickly. Before he knew it, little Samuel was a month old, he was eating more, sleeping less, growing, creating his own little personality. He wasn't sure if anyone else could see the individual he was becoming, but Sam could see it, even though he was still so little.

He had left his old life in the past, hadn't thought of his brother much at all. He was thankful he wasn't there. Thankful he had the chance to become a man, and a father figure for such a wonderful baby, and, he also became not only Beth's best friend, but was starting a relationship with her as well. Something he never thought he would have, not since the yellow eyed demon had killed Jess. But, this was better, better than he could have ever expected it to be. This is what he had been missing his entire life.


	2. Chapter 2

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 2

 _RING RING RING_

"Sam, Sam! Your phone is ringing, sweetie."

A tired Beth tried to wake Sam, he had just fallen back to sleep after waking with the baby and had no desire to answer his phone.

"Let it ring." he replied as he rolled over and embraced Beth in his arms, both of them falling back asleep.

Just as the baby woke again, Sam's phone rang one more time.

"I'll take care of Samuel, you take care of that annoying phone." Beth stated as she rubbed his bed head, getting up to go get Samuel.

"Hello?"

Sam answered his phone, he didn't know the number calling, but it was the same number he had for years, and he already decided if this was about hunting he would be giving them Dean's number, he wanted nothing to do with that life again.

"Yes, this is Sam Smith."

He couldn't help but roll his eyes, he couldn't believe his brother had someone call him. If he wanted to talk to his brother he should have called himself, Sam thought. His thought quickly faded to a blankness as he listened to the voice on the other end.

Beth had returned to the room, Samuel laying in one arm while her free hand held the bottle that was filling the hunger that woke him. He was getting so big! He had already started outgrowing some of his clothes. He would soon be 3 months old. Sam, nor Beth, could believe how fast that little boy had grown. How fast time had flown by. He was starting to play, and would smile every time he saw Sam.

But, when Beth returned to the room she saw Sam, sitting on the edge of the bed. The phone was pressed to his ear. All the color from his face was drained. She had never seen him look so pale. His mouth hung half open, like he wanted to say something, but didn't know what to say. His beautiful eyes, opened wide in shock. There was no denying the voice on the other end of the phone had dropped some bad, shocking news on him.

"Yes sir, I understand, yes sir. Thank you."

Sam hung up the phone. He sat there, motionless for a moment, before turning to look at Beth. He had a deer in the headlights look on his face.

"What's wrong?" Beth asked as she sat on the bed beside him.

"It… its Dean." Was all Sam could manage to get out. He walked downstairs to Nancy, "I… I think I need to leave for a little while." Sam announced.

"Why? What's wrong?" Nancy asked as she turned and saw the look of shock on Sam's face.

"I just got a call from a hospital. They said Dean was in a bad accident. He's been in a coma for 2 months and just woke. They said he's still not completely alert yet but he gave them my name and number. I guess… I guess I need to go check on him, see how he's doing." Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to go or not but figured this was one of those times he didn't have much of a choice.

"NO Sam!" Beth exclaimed. "You can't leave us, please don't go."

"Beth, honey," Nancy tried to calm her, "that's his brother. He needs to go make sure he's okay." Nancy understood, even if Beth didn't.

"I'm sorry, Beth, Baby, he had them call me, I need to go check on him. If he's been in a coma for 2 months he must have some serious injuries, I need to make sure he's okay." Sam had taken both of Beth's hands into his, making eye contact, keeping his voice calm and even, hoping she would understand.

"Whatever!" Beth said as she stormed off. "Do whatever the hell you want."

"BETH!" Sam called after her but she was too busy having an attitude to care. Sam turned to Nancy, his puppy dog eyes begging her to help him.

"Go pack what you need, Sam. I'll talk to her, help her understand. Right now, your brother needs you. You need to make sure he's okay. If you don't and he doesn't make it through whatever is going on, you'll never forgive yourself. It's okay. Beth will understand, I'll make sure of that."

Sam gave Nancy a big kiss on the top of her head.

"Thank you so much!"

He headed upstairs to pack some belongings. It had been several months since he had to live out of a bag. Old memories came flooding back as he put his belongings into the old ragged duffle bag that he lived out of for so many years.

Nancy had a quick talk with Beth, even though she was still mad, she told Sam goodbye. Gave him a kiss and told him he'd better come back to her. He lifted Samuel and gave him lots of hugs and kisses, damn he was going to miss that kid! He hugged Nancy goodbye, thanking her for the help. He loaded his bag into the car he had purchased with the side jobs he had picked up, and headed down the road.

He was in shock when he walked into Dean's hospital room. ICU12 is the room he found his brother in. He was laying in the bed, the side rails both up, protecting him from falling out of bed. He had the white sheet and blanket covering his body, they reached to his chest and was folded over perfectly.

He wasn't moving. He was laying completely still. The only movement was the rise and fall of his chest with each breath he breathed. He had an IV in each arm, they were hooked to different bags and bottles of fluids and medications. He had machines hooked to him.

The beeping of the machines filled the room. The screen showing his brother's vital signs and heartbeat. He had machines that had obviously been used on him to help him breath, but for the moment, he had an oxygen mask on his face. They had removed the tube that was hooked to the machine making him breath. He still had so many tubes and wires running from him, it was overwhelming to Sam.

The nurse had walked into the room when he saw that Mr. Smith had a visitor. Him, and Sam, introduced themselves. Sam had asked what happened and sat in a chair in the room to listen to what the nurse had to say.

"We aren't exactly sure what happened." The nurse began. "He was found by some deer hunters. There's this old abandoned house in the middle of the woods. The local kids like to use it as a scare tactic for pranks. No one has lived in it for decades. Buy the way it looked, your brother either fell, or jumped, out of the third story window."

The nurse took a moment to draw his attention to Dean then turned back to Sam. "Not completely sure he wasn't pushed. Someone had worked him over pretty good. He had some significant injuries, appeared maybe he had been in a fight or something. Some of the bruises are still noticeable, but most of them have faded by now. His entire body was covered in them, that and cuts. To be honest, some of them looked like they could have been self-inflicted, but I'm not gonna jump to any conclusions on that."

Sam knew the nurse was probably right, and depending if Dean was drunk or not, he may or may not have meant to jump out of the window.

"He has several internal injuries," the nurse continued. "He's healing pretty good, except for his kidneys and that head injury of his. He had several broken ribs, a collapsed lung, lacerated liver, both of his kidneys were bruised and/or had lacerations, including internal bleeding, they haven't healed yet. They, currently, aren't working properly and he's been on dialysis 3 times a week since he arrived. He has a skull fracture and bleeding on his brain. No one knows how long he was there before they found him."

The nurse shrugged. "He has been in a coma the entire time. 3 days ago, we started weaning him off the vent, allowing him to breath on his own, since his lung has healed. And yesterday, he woke for the first, and only, time. He's called your name while he was unconscious, but no one knew who you were. It wasn't until he woke, he didn't know where he was or what was going on, but he asked for you, so we got a phone number from him and that's when they called you."

The nurse was obviously concerned about Dean's wellbeing by the way he spoke. "He didn't stay awake for long, maybe 30 minutes? He was very confused the whole time."

"What did he say, while he was awake?" Sam had asked, he knew that Dean's 'confusion' wasn't always confusion, sometimes he was making sense, but only to a hunter who knew what he was talking about.

"Well," the nurse seemed a little hesitant, "for one, he said he needed to protect you. He said he didn't get rid of her and she would come for you next. Mr. Smith, I don't know who he was talking about, but I'm sure you have nothing to worry about. He didn't even know where he was at."

Sam just nodded his head. He knew Dean meant something by that, but wasn't sure what or who 'her' was. "Thank you. If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone with my brother."

"Yes sir," the nurse stated, "oh, and it's okay if you're able to wake him. We've been trying without any success."

Sam nodded his head as the nurse left the room, closing the door for privacy behind him.

"Dean?"

Sam gently rubbed his hand over Dean's. He couldn't believe what he had just heard. The nurse told him he wasn't sure how his brother was still alive with the list of injuries he had. They weren't sure if he would ever wake up or if his kidneys would ever function properly again.

"Dean, man, it's Sam. I don't know if you can hear me or not, but, I'm here. I need you to wake up, if you can. I need you to wake up for me. I need to know what you were talking about. Who is coming for me? Who didn't you get rid of? Dean?"

He didn't get a reply, but it didn't stop him from trying. He rubbed his hand over his brother's arm, circling where the IV was inserted under his skin. Dean looked so pale. He looked so lifeless. His normal, upbeat, sarcastic self, laid there, so lifeless.

He couldn't help but think about how he pushed his brother away. And, as Dean laid lifeless, injured, possibly beyond repair, he cried out for Sam. He felt guilty. He felt like the lowest person on the earth. His brother had always sacrificed so much for him. He always put Sam first, no matter what, he always put him first. He began thinking about the stories Dean had told him. The things he had witnessed.

" _Boy! I told you to make sure this damn room was clean! What the hell is wrong with you?" Sam stood, speechless. He hated his dad so much, he didn't think it was fair. He had to stay 2 nights and 1 day alone, plus he had school and homework, and his dad expected him to clean up after him too? Dad and Dean had gone on a hunt the night before, they hadn't returned all day and didn't come back until time for bed._

 _Sam hated when they went on hunts and left him alone. John had raised his voice with his anger. He had started to ball his fists as tight as they would go, Sam was too busy arguing with his dad to notice, but it didn't go without Dean's noticing._

" _Dad," Dean stepped in between them, "It's okay, I told Sam if he made sure he did his school work and got his homework done, I'd take care of the room when we got back."_

 _Dad's attention had moved from Sam to Dean._

" _You defied a direct order?"_

 _John asked. Dean didn't answer._

" _I asked you a question boy." John stated as he stepped closer to Dean, his fists still balled._

 _Dean still didn't answer. He knew what was coming, but then again, he knew it would happen with or without an answer. He wanted to make sure his dad's attention didn't turn back to Sam, so he figured his best action was to piss his dad off enough that wouldn't be a possibility._

 _Before he knew what hit him, literally, his dad's fist had met with the side of Dean's face, hard enough it knocked him against the wall he was standing beside._

" _DAD!" Sam yelled._

" _Sammy, shut up." Dean said in a low voice, trying not to show the pain he was feeling._

" _Stay out of this, boy." John said to Sam as he dragged his brother into the bathroom._

 _Sam could hear the sound of his dad's belt coming down, striking Dean's skin. He could hear the sound of the fists striking his brother as he fell against to floor, tub, toilet, Sam wasn't sure, he just knew his brother was getting the hell beat out of him, over something Sam did, or actually, didn't do. Sam covered his head with a pillow, trying to block out the sound. He wasn't sure how long they had been in there, John came out of the bathroom, and headed to his bed, alone._

" _Where's Dean?" Sam asked._

" _Go to sleep, Sam." John said angrily._

 _Sam was pissed, but knew better than to keep arguing with him. He was concerned about his brother, but knew if he checked on him it would piss his dad off. Sam heard the shower turn on, he was thankful for that, it meant his brother was conscious._

 _He laid there, waiting for his brother to come to bed, when he finally crawled in bed, Sam just curled up to him. He didn't say a word, he buried his face into Dean's chest and shed quiet tears. Dean wrapped his arms around his brother and held him tightly until he fell asleep._

The beeping of the machines pulled Sam from his memory. He looked over at Dean, nothing had changed. He was still just as lifeless as before.

"Dean, I'm so sorry." Sam whispered. "I'm sorry for pushing you away. I should have been there for you, I'm sorry."

Sam continued to rub his brother's hand, praying that he would wake up. "I know, you sacrificed so much for me. You put up with more than you should have, and I'm sorry for that, Dean, I'm so sorry! Please, I'm begging you, please just wake up, for me. Dean."

Sam had started letting the tears drip from his eyes. He held his brother's limp hand against his face until he laid his head on the bed beside his hand. He must have drifted off, he didn't mean to, he had a dream about something he didn't remember, but it seemed too real to just be a dream.

" _Dean! Shut the hell up boy!" their dad screamed at him._

 _Sam couldn't have been but a year, maybe 2 years old at the time, Dean 5 or 6. He was tied to a kitchen chair in the apartment they had at the time. It was an old place, dusty and dirty. The kitchen table and chairs had to be 50 years old. They were the old, wooden type. Dean's arms were tied to the arms of the chair, bound tight with ropes. His legs, much the same. He had ropes wrapped around his chest, and upper thighs, holding the rest of his body tightly to the chair._

 _Their dad had nailed the legs of the chair to the floor so it wouldn't fall over. Dean appeared to only be in his boxers. Sam felt scared, he was crying, he was just a baby after all. Dean, he was screaming, a high pitched, painful scream mixed with fear. He looked like he was covered in blood. He had red stripes down his body, they increased each time his dad hit him with his belt. His right eye was so swollen he could barely keep it open._

" _Daddy! No please! Dad stoooopppp!" Dean cried between his screams._

 _Sam wasn't sure about time at that age, but in his dream, at least, it seemed like it was way too long. Like Dean had been tied to that chair for what seemed like over a day, maybe 2 days. He wasn't completely sure._

Sam woke with a jolt, sitting up, tears starting to run down his face.

"Sam?" Dean's voice sounded weak, barely a whisper, it was raspy.

Sam's attention instantly jolted to Dean. "Dean!" Sam said shocked.

Dean tried to give Sam a smile, convincing him he was okay, but failed miserably. Sam grabbed Dean's hand, giving it a squeeze.

"Dean, what the hell happened, man? You okay?" Sam questioned.

Dean, looked at Sam with dazed eyes. His voice was low and a near whisper, he was barely able to make his words audible.

"I'm not completely sure."

He had pulled the mask off his face so Sam could hear him better, but he didn't realize how much he needed that oxygen as he started to cough and had a hard time breathing.

"Sam, I didn't get her."

"Who Dean? Who are you talking about?"

"The spirit, I didn't get her. She was too strong."

"Dean, do you know who it was?"

"I… I don't know, Sam, I don't know, but I swear, she looked just like Nancy… I couldn't make this shit up if I wanted to. Sam, I'm scared, I don't know anymore. I don't know who anyone is, but I swear, it was her!"

Dean was making no sense, but at the same time he was making sense. He was making hunter's sense. Maybe what he was saying was true. Maybe the spirit looked like Nancy, maybe it was a relative or something? But, it couldn't be Nancy, Sam had left her at the house, after he received a phone call from the hospital, after Dean had battled the spirit, Nancy was still alive.

"Sssam."

Dean's voice got weaker the more he spoke. His coughing was out of control, he had to put the oxygen mask back on to be able to catch his breath, but couldn't leave it on when he talked or Sam wouldn't be able to hear him.

"Iiiii… I think… I think you're in danger, you can't go back there, promise me….yyyou wwwwon't gooooo bbbback." Dean had stuttered through his gasps for much needed air.

"Dean, you're talking crazy man, even for you, put your oxygen mask back on, I think you're starving your brain."

Sam reached up and pulled the mask back down over his face. Dean was so weak he couldn't even fight him. He needed his brother to believe him. He needed his help with this. Dean hadn't realized he had been in the hospital for over 2 months until Sam told him.

"Dude, you've been here for like two months, I'm sure that spirit is gone, especially if it hasn't bothered anyone else."

"What! Sam, I need you get me out of here." Dean was sounding desperate.

"Dean, there's no way in hell I'm getting you out of here, you still have a shit load of healing to do!"

Dean looked at Sam with desperate eyes, eyes begging him to help. Begging him to believe him. He was still dazed, he had forgotten momentarily that they had a fall out. They have had their fall outs before, and always made up, it went without saying. Dean expected this time to be the same.

"Dean," Sam tried not to show his frustration, "I have a family now, a normal family. Beth and I, we're a couple now. I've been raising that baby of hers. His name is Samuel Dean. Yeah that's right, she named him after both of us. He's the cutest thing ever! He's 3 months old now and coos and giggles, he's starting to play with toys, and gets the biggest smile when he sees me."

Sam's eyes and smile lit up when he talked about the baby. He had felt so much love and pride for that little human. He told Dean how much he enjoyed the life he had, the normal life he had. He reminded his brother he wanted nothing to do with the hunting life.

He didn't care about the spirit Dean was chasing. He was only there because he received a phone call and had to make an appearance to be sure he wasn't dying or something. Dean just rolled his eyes at Sam, typical Sam behavior. Dean didn't want to deal with his crap! He didn't want to put up with his attitude. He wasn't in the mood, he was way too weak and in too much pain.

"Sam, if you don't want to be here, then just leave!"

Dean shouted at this brother, but his shout sounded weak and an almost normal volume level. Dean turned his head from Sam.

"Just go." He completed in a calmer tone.

"Dean, I had to make sure you were okay."

"Yeah, you said that already. You came, you saw, now go!"

Dean was obviously irritated, but mostly heartbroken, all he wanted to do was cry, but no matter how bad he was feeling he couldn't let his brother see him cry, not right now. He couldn't even look at his brother. He was trying so hard to protect him, like he always did, like he always would. But, his brother was refusing to believe him. He couldn't see past his dream for a normal life.

"Sam, please." Dean tried one more time. "Please, believe me, Sam. I'm telling you, something isn't right here. I don't know what it is, but something is wrong! I don't trust the situation you're in."

Sam laughed, "Oh, I see now, you're jealous, you can't handle that I'm happy. You can't take me having someone besides you." Sam accused.

"NO! Sam, I love you man. All I've ever wanted was for you to be happy, even if… even if that means without me. I've left you alone, I've let you enjoy what you had, just like you wanted. But, Sam, I'm telling you. I saw it, you didn't. It wasn't right. It was all wrong. I don't know why. I can't put my finger on it. But, I'm just asking you to please be careful. Please watch your back. Just, watch your back okay? Keep yourself safe. Promise me that Sam."

Sam just rolled his eyes at Dean. "Yeah okay, whatever."

Dean knew Sam wasn't taking him serious. He knew Sam wouldn't listen to him.

"Sam." Dean sounded like he was half awake and half asleep. "I'm not okay."

"What?"

"I'm not going to be okay. I'm dying, I know it as well as that damn doctor does."

"Dean! Don't say that!"

"Goodbye Sam."

Dean turned his head from Sam and closed his eyes. Sam, attempted to make conversation with his brother but Dean had shut down. He was done talking. Sam got irritated and left. He headed back home to the family that loved him.

He hurried home as fast as he could, happy to be back in Beth's arms. Happy to be back to his baby, his normal family. He didn't talk about Dean when they questioned him, so they didn't push it, they just filled him with love and acceptance, the life he always dreamt of. Nancy continued to be overly nice, making Sam forget about everything Dean had warned him of. He didn't care about that life anyhow. He was happy. He was home, for the first time, he was actually home.


	3. Chapter 3

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 3

 _Knock, knock_

Sam had been laying on the floor playing with Samuel when there was a knock at the door. He got up to answer it, with Samuel in hand.

"DEAN!"

Sam was shocked to see his brother on the other side. He looked like crap! He looked worse than when he had seen him in the hospital. He was leaning on the door frame to hold himself up.

"Hey there, Sammy." Dean said with a forced smile.

"Dean?" Beth said from behind Sam. Shocked to see him there.

"Dean, what the hell do you want?" Sam asked.

"Can't a man come see his own brother?" Dean asked, forcing himself to stand up on his own. "You gonna welcome me in?"

"Uh, yeah sure."

Sam stepped out of the way to let Dean pass by him. Dean was obviously uneven on his feet. He wasn't drunk, just weak, and tired.

"Dean, it's only been a week since I saw you at the hospital, what the hell are you doing here?"

"Aww, Sammy, you didn't expect me to stay there long did you?"

Sam just rolled his eyes at Dean. He wasn't faking anyone, especially not Sam.

"So, where's Nancy?" Dean asked as he looked around.

"Not here." Was Sam's only reply.

Dean just nodded his head. "Cute kid." He pointed toward the little one Sam was holding.

"Thanks." Sam replied.

Samuel smiled up at Sam as he smiled down at him.

"Dean, I don't think you need to be here." Beth said, a little irritated that he was around.

Her attitude didn't go without notice, but Dean chose to ignore her. "So, how's the daddy life?"

Dean wasn't too sure what else to say, he wanted to talk to Sam but not with Beth around. Samuel started crying, needing a diaper change, that was obvious with the smell that came from him.

"Here, I'll go change him." Beth said as she picked up the little one and left the room.

"Okay, Dean, why are you really here?" Sam questioned, knowing his brother better than anyone else.

"I… um… Sam, I came to say goodbye." Dean dropped his head.

"Uh… Dean, we already said goodbye at the hospital." Sam reminded him.

"Yeah, yeah I know. I know we did, but this time. This time is for good. Sam. I'm… I'm… look… my kidneys have been damaged, they aren't going to be able to fix them. I wasn't going to stay there if they couldn't help me. I'm not going to do damn dialysis crap for the rest of my life. It's either that, or a new kidney. And, we both know I'm not worth that."

Dean hadn't lifted his head, he couldn't face Sam. "So, I'm not… it wares you out, more than you could possibly imagine. Sam, I'm not doing that anymore. So, well the way the doctor put it, I won't be around much longer without it. And… and I'm fine with that. I'll be out of your hair, Sam, you won't have to worry about me anymore. It'll be okay."

Dean felt a tear drop down his face. He was trying to convince himself more than Sam that it would be okay.

"Dean, are you telling me that you're dying, like really dying?" Sam asked, a little shocked.

Before Dean could answer, Nancy came back into the house, she had some shopping sacks in her hands.

"Dean!" she was shocked to see him. "I thought you were dead."

Sam questioned that. Why would she think he was dead? He hadn't mentioned anything about Dean's health to her, unless, unless what Dean had said is true. Unless, Dean really did see Nancy, in the form of a spirit.

If she had pushed him out of the window then she would think he was dead. No one, not even the doctor, had a good explanation on how he survived that kind of fall. Suddenly, all his red flags went up. He was back in hunting mode. His senses heightened.

"Hey Dean, you look like shit, man, why don't you stay the night, at least tonight?"

Dean recognized the look in Sam's eyes. "Yeah, okay, sounds good to me."

Nancy and Beth seemed a bit irritated that Dean was there. Before he left, they were both loving and caring towards him, they took care of him, healed him, now it was like they didn't give a shit, they wanted him gone, out of their lives forever.

Beth begged Sam to go to bed with her, he refused, said he wanted to spend a little extra time with his brother, they had things to talk about in private. He did, however, put little Samuel to bed. He tucked him in, kissing him good night and turning out his light.

He gave Beth a kiss and promised he'd be up to bed in a little while. He went back downstairs to his brother. Dean was feeling uncomfortable. He no longer felt the safety of the home. He didn't want to lay down to sleep, truthfully, he was afraid if he slept he wouldn't wake up, and there was no way he was going to do that to his brother.

"So, look, when I came back after seeing you at the hospital, I didn't say anything to anyone. I wasn't even sure how I felt about everything going on. Beth asked me how you were doing and I never really gave her an answer."

Sam began, speaking as quiet as he could, making sure no one else in the house could hear him. "So, why would Nancy think you were dead?" Sam's confusion was written all over his face.

"I'm telling you, man, something isn't right. That spirit, the one who used me like a rag doll, before throwing me out the window, if it wasn't Nancy it was a damn spitting image of her. I don't know what's going on here, but something isn't right." Dean replied, speaking equally as quiet.

Dean lowered his head, the tone of his voice changing. "Sam, look… um… the thing is, the doctor told me, if I didn't stay, do the treatments I needed, then I might have a week… to… you know… live." Dean raised his head and looked directly into Sam's eyes.

"Then why did you leave?"

"Because, you didn't believe me. You wouldn't listen to anything I said to you. I know you're happy. You've finally gotten everything you've wanted in life, everything you've wanted. But, I'm telling you, something isn't right here, and if it's the last thing I do, I've gotta protect my pain in the ass, little brother."

Dean forced a slight smile, "That and I couldn't leave Baby without knowing she was taken care of."

He finished as he tossed his keys to Sam. Sam was going over the words Dean just said in his head as he juggled the keys in his hands.

"So…"

Sam was hesitant to ask, but knew if his brother was allowing himself to die, again, to save his brother than he had to have a damn good reason. Dean was reckless, sure. But he always made sure he survived whatever happened to him, unless, it was to save Sam's life.

"What do you think is going on here?"

"Sam, I really don't know. I'm just as confused as you are, and I haven't been able to do any research in that damn hospital." Dean answered.

The brothers sat quiet for a moment, until Sam's voice broke the chilling silence.

"Hey Dean."

"Yeah?"

"So, if you do the dialysis, then you'll live?"

"Yeah, I guess so. But Sam, I'm so tired of doing that. It wears me out, makes me feel sick and weak."

Dean dropped his head, he didn't want to talk about that with Sam. He couldn't appear weak, not at this moment.

"I need you." Sam said with sadness in his voice.

Dean shot his head back up to look at Sam, but he was staring at the floor. "Sam, I… I thought you wanted to have a life without me?"

Dean asked, afraid to hear his response. There was none, Sam sat quiet for a little while.

"Will you do me a favor?" Sam asked.

"I don't know, maybe" Dean shrugged.

"Dean, if something really is going on, if something isn't right, like you say, then I'm going to need you to help me. Can you, please, do the dialysis, keep yourself alive? At least until we figure this out? We can use it for an excuse even. Tell them that's why you need to stay here, because you're sick and have to have your treatments."

Sam's brain was working overtime, trying to figure this out.

"Okay."

Dean agreed to Sam's plan. He didn't really want to agree to it, but knew his brother was right, he needed to stick around and help him figure this out.

"So, when's your next treatment?" Sam asked.

Dean gave a little smirk. "It was supposed to be today."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Okay, then we'll try to get you in tomorrow." Sam thought for a minute then spoke again, "Hey Dean, while you're there, what do you do?"

"Nothing really. They just hook everything up through this port they placed in me." He showed Sam what he was talking about. "Then they run the machines for a few hours, flushing out all the bad stuff in my blood, the stuff your kidneys would usually flush out, and the blood goes back into my body, clean, it's like magic!" Dean said that last part sarcastically.

"So, then, you just sit there for hours? Doing nothing?"

"Yeah, basically, why?" Dean knew there was a reason behind all of Sam's questions.

"Because, I was thinking, if we have to do research on the people who live here, don't you think it would be best if we didn't do it here?"

Dean nodded his head, understanding what Sam was talking about. "Yeah, I guess you're right." Dean gave Sam a small grin. "This is why you've always been the smart one. I can work on that while I'm there." His eyes were drifting, he was fighting to keep them open.

"Dean, why don't you rest? It's getting late and I need to go upstairs, if I don't, Beth will get pretty pissed, besides, I'm sure Samuel will wake up soon and I'll need to take care of him."

Dean just nodded his head. He was exhausted, and not feeling well at all. He felt like death, and was sure he looked like it too. He closed his eyes and they refused to open back up. Sam pulled the chair into its reclining position and covered his brother with a blanket that laid across the back of the couch before heading upstairs.

Sam didn't sleep well that night. He had so much on his mind, so many concerns and questions. Samuel, however, did sleep, even though Sam had wished he would wake because that would at least give him something to do besides lay in bed awake.

Once Samuel woke, Sam was in there in an instant, changing his diaper, getting him ready for the day. He walked downstairs, Dean was awake but still laying in the chair, he felt too bad to move. He was curled up on his side, back facing the kitchen. Nancy was in the kitchen getting breakfast started. Sam laid little Samuel beside Dean, resting him in his arms.

"You mind watching him for a minute while I go fix his bottle?" Sam asked, not giving Dean the option, or even time to answer.

" _Dean, take your brother, run as fast as you can and don't look back."_

 _he remembered his father saying as he placed his little brother in his arms, expecting Dean to take care of him. Dean ran out of the house. He protected his brother. From that point on, that's all that mattered. Protecting his brother. His dad would always remind him to watch out for Sammy, but he didn't have to. Dean knew that was his job as a big brother. He knew he had to sacrifice everything for him._

" _Dad, daddy!"_

 _Dean tried to shake his dad awake. He had passed out drunk, still drunk, or at least having a really bad hang over. Dean had just turned 5. He had taken care of Sammy since the night of the fire. But tonight, something was different. Something was wrong with his little brother and he wasn't sure how to fix it._

 _He was always good at making sure his bottle was made and diapers were changed. Usually he was able to get him to stop crying, no matter the reason. But tonight, he couldn't._

" _Daddy, something is wrong with Sammy."_

 _Dean shook his dad harder. This time waking him, which only caused a forceful hand to smack him across the face, causing him to fly off the bed and hit the floor with a bang._

" _What the hell do you want boy!" his dad was angry he had been woken._

" _Ddddad… something is wrong with Sammy, I can't get him to stop crying."_

 _Dean stuttered, holding back the tears that wanted to fall from the smack his father gave him. The side of his face burned with pain, but he knew better than to let his dad know that._

" _Can… can you please… help me? Sir."_

 _Dean was scared to ask but knew he had to, he had to make sure his brother was okay. No matter what the cost._

" _Damn it Dean! You worthless piece of shit!"_

 _His dad started cursing as he pulled himself out of bed. Dean had gotten back on his feet just to be pushed back down when his dad walked past him. He jumped back up and followed his dad to where Sammy was at._

 _The baby laid in the crib, tears streaming down his face, his screaming crying filled the air. His cheeks were red, his little fists balled up and shaking. John picked him up and could feel the heat radiating off of him._

" _He has a fever, you dumb fuck!"_

" _What's wrong with him?" Dean's innocence asked._

" _How the hell should I know? Do I look like a damn doctor to you?" John snapped back._

 _He didn't give Dean time to answer before he held his face in his free hand. He could see the bruise forming on his cheek where he smacked him for waking him up._

" _You can't go anywhere looking like this and I need to take your brother to the damn hospital."_

" _I…I'm okay, dad, you just take care of Sammy, I'll be fine here, by myself."_

 _John smirked, laying Sammy back down for a moment._

" _Damn straight you will be!"_

 _He pulled the kitchen chair out._

" _Dean, go get my drill and some screws."_

" _Yes sir."_

 _Dean didn't hesitate to do as his father commanded. John screwed the chair to the floor. Dean was only in his boxers and t-shirt, that's all he ever slept in, unless it was cold where they were staying, then he would wear sweatpants._

 _John grabbed Dean, hard, by his shoulders and pushed him into the chair. He took some rope and tied him down, his hands and feet, he wrapped rope around his chest and upper legs. He made sure Dean couldn't move an inch. He then shoved a rag in his mouth._

 _By this time Dean was crying, he was letting the tears flow. His dad took off his belt and gave him a few smacks across the face with it, telling him what a cry baby he was._

" _I don't have time for your shit, boy. I have to take care of your brother. I'll be back whenever we get back. You'll stay here until then." His dad said as he picked up Sam and left._

 _Sam ended up having an ear infection and strep throat, both causing him an upper respiratory infection. It had still been cold where they were. The evenings dropped down into the 30s, daytime was hot in the 60s._

 _The doctor explained that was prime temperature fluctuation for things like this to happen to kids. He suggested Sam stay at the hospital. Which John agreed to, wanting nothing more than his little one to feel better._

 _3 days later, Sam was released to go home with some antibiotics and other medications. Dean didn't know everything that happened at the hospital. All he knew, his dad had left him, tied to a chair, a rag shoved in his mouth. He couldn't use the bathroom, he couldn't eat, or drink. He was only in his boxers and a thin shirt._

 _John made the comment how he didn't want to pay for a heating bill if he wasn't going to be using it, so he turned it off before he left, leaving Dean, alone, shivering, in the cold nights. He remembered being scared. Not knowing what was going on or how long they would be gone, or… if his dad would ever come back._

 _He was starving and dehydrated. He had used the bathroom all over himself. The only thing that comforted him was that he kept telling himself it was for Sammy. He had to stay there so his little brother could get better._

Sam pulled him out of his memory when he returned with a warm bottle.

"You want to feed him?"

Dean took the bottle and fed him, the same way he used to with Sam.

"I'm going to go call and see if we can't get you in there today." Sam stated "You good with him right now?" pointing at the baby.

Dean nodded his head, he raised his brother, he was sure he could handle feeding a baby. When Sam returned to the room the bottle was finished, Dean was in a seated position in the chair, Samuel was across his chest with his head on his shoulder, Dean was lightly patting his back, rocking him in the chair, while Samuel slept comfortably in his arms. Sam couldn't help but smile at the sight.

"I've got you an appointment in 2 hours." Sam announced.

Dean just nodded his head.

"Hey, Sam?" Beth spoke from in the kitchen. "Now that you're done playing doctor with your brother, you gonna come eat?"

"Uh… Yeah." Sam replied, looking over at Dean. "You want anything?"

Dean just shook his head no as he continued to rock the sleeping baby.

"You good with him?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

Sam slipped out of the room to go eat breakfast with his newly found family. Dean put the chair back into a reclining position and snuggled the little one in his arms while he slept. He started thinking about all the times he had done this with Sam. Only, Dean was much smaller at the time.

He would curl up in the bed, his body wrapped around his little brother's, protecting him from any harm, while Sammy slept peacefully, Dean would watch out for any dangers that might be hiding in the night.

" _DE!" Sam said as he reached his arms toward his big brother._

 _Dean jumped with excitement. It was Sammy's first word._

" _Sam!" Dean giggled "You said your first word! Say it again, who am I?"_

" _Deeeeen." Sam repeated, this time ending it with an 'N'._

 _Dean giggled again and just loved on his little brother. Of course, John thought 'daddy' should have been his first word, he was already drunk, already stressed out._

" _Oh, you think you're something special now? Just because a baby can make out two letters?" John smirked irritated at Dean._

 _He pushed himself away from the table he was sitting at. Purposely, kicked Dean's side with his boot as he walked past him. Dean was kneeling on the floor with Sam in his arms. He fell over with the kick, slamming the ground hard, head first, he had used his arms to protect Sam, to keep him from hitting the ground._

"Dean!" Sam had shaken him out of another memory. "I asked if you were ready." Sam repeated as he took the sleeping baby from his arms.

"Uh, yeah, is it time to go already?"

Dean didn't realize he had fallen asleep, but then again, it didn't surprise him, not the way he had been feeling. Sam gave Beth a kiss, telling her he'd be back when Dean was finished. He helped Dean to a standing position, he didn't resist too much, he knew right now, he needed all the help he could get. He was dying, and he could feel it. They left in the impala, Sam driving of course.

"So, I'm going to drop you off at the place with my laptop. While you're there, I'm going to hit the library, and maybe the historical records if I have time."

Dean just nodded his head. He had leaned his body against the door, his head rested on the window. His eyes closed.

"Dean, you okay, man?" Sam was concerned by his brother's appearance.

"Yeah, I'm fine, Sam, just tired."

"You gonna be able to do the research? Or would you rather rest while you're there?" Sam questioned, realizing how bad his brother looked.

"I'll be fine. If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to save my little brother."

Dean had used that line before, but somehow this time felt different. He knew it possibly could be the last thing he did.

"Hey Dean?"

Dean didn't answer him, he just opened his eyes and looked Sam's way.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For pushing you away the way I did. For the things I said, for not believing in you, for making you sacrifice so much for me..."

Dean had stopped him at that point. "Sam, you didn't MAKE me sacrifice anything for you, I did because I wanted to. I made the choice, you had nothing to do with it. So, don't ever think I did anything just because I 'had' to. I did it because I wanted to."

Dean wanted to make sure Sam understood that. Sam nodded his head as they pulled up to the dialysis center. He walked inside with Dean, helping him as much as he could. Sitting with him until he was called back.

He handed Dean his laptop and told him he'd be back to get him at the time the nurses said he'd be finished. Dean went to be hooked up on the machines. Sam headed back out to the car. When he first sat down, behind the driver's wheel, emotions overcame him.

He sat there, for the first time in a long time, and let the tears freely flow. This was real, and there was nothing he could do about it. His brother was actually dying. Sam had a wave of guilt come over him, he hadn't always been the most loving, caring brother. Determined to make things right, he put the car in reverse and headed to the library.

Dean was so sick and tired of the machines, and doctors. He didn't want to be there. He didn't want to go through this. He was ready to have it all end, but he made a promise to his brother, one he knew he had to keep. He had to make sure his brother was safe, and his gut instinct told him he wasn't.

Once everything was hooked up and ready to go he settled back for the long wait, opened the laptop and began pecking away at the keys. He wasn't even sure where to start, he kept hitting dead ends to his research. He was hoping Sam was having better luck than he was. But he was determined, no matter how worn out he was feeling, he wasn't going to give up. He couldn't give up on his brother.


	4. Chapter 4

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 4

Sam couldn't help but feel aggravated. He wasn't sure what was going on, why the sudden change of attitude. But, Beth had called him about every 30 minutes, he could hardly concentrate on his research. She kept asking him to come home, that he had plenty of time to come home before his brother was done.

He tried to explain that he needed some time alone, which only seemed to irritate Beth worse. He never needed any alone time until Dean came back around. He tried to not answer his phone but she would keep calling back until he finally answered. By the time he picked up Dean he was beyond angry.

When Dean got into the car, he was worn out. He could barely walk on his own, he was exhausted beyond exhausted. He leaned himself against the door, unable to muster up the strength to keep himself sitting up right.

"Dean. You okay?" Sam asked, his voice full of concern. Of course, Dean wasn't okay.

"You have any luck?" Dean's voice was low, matching the way he looked.

"um… Beth wouldn't leave me alone long enough, it's like she's afraid something is going to happen if I'm not right there with her." Sam was obviously irritated.

"Like she's afraid we're going to find something out that we shouldn't?" Dean asked, followed by, "Hey Sam, pull over, will you?"

Sam pulled over as Dean jumped out of the car, not even waiting for the car to come to a complete stop. He spilled what little stomach contents he had onto the ground. Dean looked so fragile, on his hands and knees on the ground, barely having the strength to push himself onto his knees. Sam got out, helping him sit back so he was leaning against Sam.

"Hey, bro, it's okay, I got you."

Dean was trembling. Sam had memories of all the times his brother was too weak to go on, too weak to function, yet pushed himself anyhow. He started thinking about the dream he had while Dean was in the hospital.

"Hey Dean, can I ask you something?"

"What?"

Dean had leaned himself into Sam, like the way it used to be.

"I… um… I had a dream, while you were at the hospital, I fell asleep sitting beside your bed, and um… I was just wondering if... well…"

"Get on with it, Sam" Dean interrupted his stuttering.

"Okay, so I'm not sure if it was real or not. It seemed so real, like a memory, not a dream." Sam finally finished.

"So, what was it about?" Dean asked.

He hated chick moments but was willing to do what needed to be done, he was sure these were his last few days on Earth, so he at least owed this to his brother.

"I was, maybe 2 or 3? You were like 5 or 6? Somewhere around there anyhow. And, Dad had you tied to a kitchen chair. The chair was secured to the floor. He was beating you and you were screaming."

Dean had stopped Sam, he had heard enough.

"Yeah. It was real. I don't know how the hell you remember that."

Sam's heart sunk. "So, was that a one-time thing?"

Dean just shook his head. "It happened a lot, Sam. I'm sure what you don't remember is that he tied you to a chair too. actually, he didn't tie you, see he didn't want to cause you any harm. He used tape, duct tape, and he only taped down your hands and feet."

He hated telling his brother how he was hurt, but if he didn't do it now, then he would never know. "When we went on hunts, when you were a baby, he would tape you to the car seat, and tape your mouth so you couldn't cry, for your own safety he said. He made up some lame excuse how he couldn't handle you toddling around, getting into everything, that's why he had to tape you down."

Dean paused to gag a little and draw in a ragged breath. "But, he used ropes on me, because I had to be more of a man. He purposely tied them as tight as he could, he left marks, sores where they would rub me raw. And usually, it was because I did something wrong, I deserved it. Anyhow, he would, yeah, he would beat the hell out of me. He knew how much I hated his belt, he used it as a scare tactic."

Dean had stopped, his voice was trailing off as the memories in his head got stronger.

"Dean," Sam cleared his throat, "How long…" he wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to ask.

"Sam, it went on for, I don't know, a few years I guess. The longest he left me tied to the chair was somewhere between 5 days and a week. I'm not even sure. I was young."

Dean wiped his hand down his face then patted this brother's leg. "We better be getting back before Beth has a complete breakdown." Dean chuckled, giving Sam's leg a pat.

He attempted to push himself off the ground. He failed, miserably as Sam helped him to his feet and back into the car. They made it back to Nancy's without speaking another word. Sam helped Dean into the house and to the couch. He completely collapsed. He didn't have much of a choice. Sam placed a small waste basket beside Dean, in case he was going to be sick again. Dean passed out, he didn't mean to, but he also couldn't help it.

Dean got woken by some yelling. Beth and Sam were having an argument. Their first argument actually. As Dean listened in he could hear it was about him. He was used to hearing Sam arguing. He always fought with their dad. Dean and John also always fought about Sam, which usually ended up with Dean getting his ass beat.

He was used to his dad yelling at him about himself, about what a sorry piece of shit he was, but he wasn't used to hearing anyone else fighting about him. He knew he was to blame for a lot of things, whatever they were fighting about was just another thing that was his fault.

He pushed himself off the couch, their fighting had woken little Samuel as well. Dean could hear him start to cry but Sam and Beth didn't. Dean had gone to his side, lifted him into his arms, comforting him. The same way he did when Sam was little. Sam would stay so scared all the time. He didn't understand all the screaming that went on. Some of it was Dad's drunkenness and some of it, Dean's screaming and crying from being beaten.

"What the hell are you doing?" Beth yelled from behind Dean, causing him to jump just a little.

He turned to look at Beth, "He was crying, so I came to take care of him. I changed his diaper and he seems to be good being held."

Dean was just simply stating the facts.

"What are you saying? That I can't take care of my own kid? Give him to me!"

Beth sounded angry as she reached out and grabbed her baby from his arms. Dean didn't say a word. He wasn't feeling much like fighting. Sam had walked into the doorway of the nursery, hearing the entire thing. Beth seemed a little shocked when she turned around and saw him standing there. She pushed her way past Sam in a huff.

"She's just peachy." Dean replied. Sam noticed his brother had reached out and balanced himself against the crib.

"Dean," Sam said in a low voice, "She's mad because you're here."

"And you don't think that's a little odd?" Dean questioned. "If memory serves me right, when I left here, everything was fine. Nancy and Beth, both cared about me, hated to see me go. And now? So, what's changed?"

Dean walked away with that. Sam quickly followed him, thankful that he did. Dean had made it about half way down the stairs before he completely collapsed, falling down the remaining steps.

"DEAN!"

Sam shouted out as he rushed to his brother's side. He looked lifeless, had a knot forming on his head. It didn't take him but a moment to start stirring around, regaining consciousness. When he opened his eyes, he wasn't sure what was happening, but he was staring at his little brother, his head in his arms, his body lying across his lap.

"Are we going to kiss, or something?" Dean asked

"Shut up" Sam chuckled. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I guess so."

"Dude, you passed out while you were walking down the stairs."

"That explains why my head hurts like a son of a bitch." Dean replied, trying to keep his old sense of humor. "Wanna let me up?" Dean asked, "Or are you waiting for that kiss?"

Sam shoved Dean up off of him, helping him to his feet. He was a little wobbly at first but made it to the chair.

"Sam," Dean began, "I'm sorry. I don't want to cause any problems here. I'll… I'll just stay in my car, I'll sleep there, and you can drive me to those stupid appointments so we can take care of what we need to. Do you think Beth and Nancy would be okay with that?"

"Dean, you don't need to do that." Sam began but was cut short by Nancy's voice.

"I think that would be best."

Dean just nodded his head. Sam was irritated but he knew they had a mission, a hunt, they were working on and needed to get the information they were looking for. Dean, still living out of a duffle bag. Stood up, picked up his bag and walked out the door. He hated this. He hated it so much. But, Sam had noticed when he left he took his laptop with him. This would give him privacy to do all the research he needed. Sam let him go without an argument, knowing this information.

Dean felt like crap, the last thing he wanted to do was stay in his car, as much as he loved his Baby it wasn't that comfortable as bad as he felt. He hadn't eaten much in over a week. He was feeling dehydrated, not that it mattered since nothing he put in his body was able to exit without those damn machines or by vomiting.

He opened the laptop and began his research again. He was determined to get to the bottom of things before he died. The things he was finding made his stomach turn to knots. He needed to get his brother out of there, but he also needed to wait it out, until he could get his brother safely away. It came dialysis day again. This was the first time he had a chance to talk to Sam.

"Sam, we need to skip this crap today." Dean announced.

"Dean, we can't man. You have to do this."

"Look, look at what I found out!" He turned the laptop toward his brother, showing him what he had found. "Sam, we need to go back to that house." Dean pleaded.

"Dean, you need to go to this appointment, we'll discuss the other later, but I need you to stay around right now." Sam said as he pulled into the parking lot.

"Dean, I'll look over all this, okay? While you take care of what needs to be done. But, I need you to rest today. You've been doing a lot of research and I know the car isn't very comfortable, so I need you to rest, okay?"

Dean nodded his head as he got out of the car.

"Think about it, Sam. We need to go back there." He said before closing the door and walking inside the building.

Sam settled into the seat of the car. Looking over the things Dean had found while he waited for him to finish. What he read. He couldn't believe. He was shocked!

" _Mrs. Nancy Oliver and her daughter, Beth Oliver were found dead in their home today. The police have determined it to be a murder suicide. Chief Buckley stated that it appeared Mrs. Nancy murdered her daughter, who was 7 months pregnant, it appears she was drowned in the bathtub._

 _It's speculated Nancy had held her under the water until she was dead. Consequently, Beth's unborn child, a baby boy, didn't make it through the ordeal. The mother, Nancy was found in the room located on the 3_ _rd_ _floor, hanging from a noose she had tied to the rafters. It appeared to be a suicide."_

Sam couldn't believe what he just read, the house they were found at, wasn't were they lived now. It was the place where Dean was found, near death. The place he said he saw Nancy's ghost. Oh, god, how could I be so stupid, Sam thought to himself.

He got out of the car, made his way to the trunk. He placed the weapons he thought they would need into a bag. The problem is, there was no location to their burial grounds. After loading the weapons into the bag, and checking the time to make sure Dean wasn't close to being finished, he headed to the local historical building, trying to find anything on the ones he's been living with. The ones he had called family.

He wasn't even sure what was real anymore. He didn't find anything on them, not even evidence of them living at the place they currently resided. No ID or driver license. No change of address, or even evidence of that address ever existing. He knew Dean was right, they needed to head back to where they found Dean, back to the town it all started in.

Beth had, as usual, called Sam several times. He told her Dean wasn't doing so good. That they were afraid he wasn't going to make it through this time. That he was being admitted into the hospital and he was going to be staying with him, just in case. Of course, she wasn't at all happy about that, but couldn't argue with him too much.

He turned his phone off, making sure his GPS was turned off as well. When Dean was finished and returned to the car, he noticed the look of determination on his brother's face.

"We're going, Dean." Sam stated.

Dean raised his eyebrows, surprised at his brother's announcement.

"Look, I did some more research and there's no evidence of Nancy or Beth ever existing in this town." Sam stated as he continued to tell Dean everything he found, or didn't find. "We have to go back to the last town they were located at, back to… to their deaths."

Sam couldn't believe what he was saying. "Dean, you okay for the road trip?" He asked, suddenly realizing Dean may not be able to make the trip.

"Yeah, I'm good, just tired." Dean reassured him. "I'm going to rest, while you drive okay? Wake me when we get there." Dean stated as he closed his eyes, his head still leaning against the window.

Sam drove in complete silence, keeping an eye on his brother, making sure he was still okay, still breathing. Sam drove as fast as he could. He was in a hurry to figure this out. He was in a bigger hurry to figure out how to save his brother, but he couldn't do that until he figured out what the hell was going on with Nancy and Beth.

He didn't wake Dean when they arrived. He went straight to the records office. Pulled up all the information he could on the murder suicide and their burial sites. It appeared they were buried in a family cemetery, on the land, with the house. When he returned to the car the closing of the door woke Dean.

"Hey man," he said, looking around, "I thought you were going to wake me when we got here."

"Yeah, well I figured you could use the sleep." Sam replied, handing Dean the documents he had gathered.

"Looks like we're going back to that house, you up for this?" Sam questioned.

"Yeah, let's do this" Dean replied, determined to get his brother out of whatever mess he had gotten into.

They drove to the house, Sam talking, Dean mostly just listening with his body rested against the door. He talked about where the graves could be located. Dean didn't remember ever seeing family graves, he didn't have a clue where to begin. But, he knew the spirit was worse when he was on the 3rd floor.

The thought of that, the thought of going back into that room, put some fear into him. They had drove as far as they could, they were going to have to walk the rest of the way. Sam packed the bag, knowing it would take all the strength Dean had just to walk.

Dean stumbled along the way, tripping over branches and roots, pretty much anything there was to trip over seemed to come into contact with Dean's feet. They were searching for the graves while they walked, figured it best to find the graves, try to salt and burn before going to the house.

"Hey, Dean." Sam said, breaking the silence. "When this is over, I don't know what's going to happen, hell, I don't even know what's real anymore. But, we gotta get you better man, I can't let you die on me, no matter what, you're my big brother and I need you. Who else is gonna watch my back and pull me out of situations I get myself into?"

Dean let out a small chuckle. "Aw Sam, I'm sure you'll find someone." Dean replied with a joking tone. "Then again, I don't know anyone who would be able to put up with your annoying ass."

Dean playfully bumped shoulders with Sam. Causing him to just roll his eyes at Dean. They walked around, unable to find what they were looking for. Sam was thankful for Dean's stumbling, he fell flat on his face, tripping over a small piece of stone from a gravesite.

"Dean!" at first Sam was concerned, until he noticed what he tripped over, "Dean! You found it!"

Dean was a bit surprised, but thankful they found what they were looking for. They started moving around the brush on the ground around the graves, searching for Nancy and Beth's names. They were finding every name except theirs.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean said irritated. "Where the hell are they?"

They continued to look without any luck.

"Maybe there's another gravesite?" Sam questioned.

"I bet that son of a bitch spirit would know where they are." Dean replied.

"Dean, no, we don't need to go back into the house, not until this is finished." Sam pleaded.

They continued looking.

"Finally!" Dean announced. As he wiped away the dirt and leaves from the stone with Nancy's name on it.

"Damn." Sam replied as he looked down on it.

"Well, sonny boy, let's get to digging!" Dean said as he handed a shovel to Sam.

It didn't take Dean but a few scoops with the shovel to realize he didn't have the strength he needed.

"Hey, Dean, why don't you keep watch?" Sam suggested, "I got this."

Dean nodded his head agreeing with his brother. He continued to look for Beth's grave while he was keeping watch.

"Hey Sam." Dean sounded so emotionless. "I think you might want to come see this."

Sam stopped what he was doing and came to see what his brother was talking about. It was Beth's grave. The woman he had fallen in love with.

"Hey Sam, give me a shovel, I'll start this one."

"No, Dean, why don't you finish the other one? I'll dig…"

Dean just nodded his head, allowing his brother a moment to himself. Dean wasn't very fast. he was struggling to dig, but knew he had to push through the exhaustion and pain. He had to finish what they set out to do. Dean was so thankful he finally hit something, as he collapsed to the ground.

"Sam… Sam… I…" Dean could hardly make out the words between the struggled breathing.

Sam was there as soon as he heard his brother, "Dean, Dean you alright?" Sam asked as he jumped into the grave with him.

"I… hit… some… thing." Dean barely got his words out.

"Good job!"

Sam helped get his brother to his feet and out of the grave. He broke through the box Nancy was buried in. He couldn't believe it when he saw the bones, he poured the salt over them.

"Uh… Sam! SAM! I need a little help up here, Sam!"

Dean was sounding desperate. Nancy's spirit appeared. Sam looked up and saw her, just as she lifted Dean into the air, tossing him across the air and slamming him into a tree. Sam worked faster. He finished pouring the salt and started covering the bones with gasoline as Nancy tossed his brother against another tree.

Striking the matches, he took one more look at Nancy's spirit. As she started to lunge toward Sam, he dropped the flames into the grave, burning her bones, making her spirit scream and then disappear.

"Dean!" Sam ran to his brother's side. "Dean, are you okay? Come on man, I need you to talk to me, are you okay?"

"Peachy." Dean replied, but his voice was barely audible. "Sam, you gotta finish it. You gotta." Dean stopped to grab his stomach while he rolled into a ball.

"Yeah, I know." Sam said as he patted Dean on the shoulder. "I got it, you stay here."

"Where am I going to go?" Dean asked sarcastically.

Sam made his way back to the grave, finishing the dig. Dean had struggled but made his way to Sam's side. As he cracked open the box her body was contained in his heart sunk. All the skin was gone, leaving nothing but bones, not just hers, but the evidence of the tiny little bones that died inside her stomach.

"Samuel" Sam whispered.

Dean, making his way to his feet, placed a hand on his brother's shoulder. Dean picked up the salt and poured it over the bones, when he started with the gasoline Beth's spirit appeared.

"Sam" She said. "do you really want to do this? We could continue to live the life we had. You have little Samuel. How could you do this to him?"

Sam's eyes filled with tears.

Dean placed his hand back on his brother's shoulder, "It's for the best."

Sam nodded as Dean dropped his lighter into the box. Beth's spirit disappeared, both bodies burned up in flames. Sam dropped his head.

"Let's go Dean."

There was no mistaking the sadness in his voice. Dean turned and looked at the house that almost killed him.

"Hey Sam, can we burn it?" Dean asked.

"Sure."

They made their way to the house. Chills filled Dean as he walked inside. They started on the top floor, pouring gasoline over everything. Sam took a moment, to pay attention to the belongings that were still in the home, they were old but they belonged to Beth, it was once a part of her. A part of another love that was lost.

Once they made their way out of the home Dean struck the matches and threw them on the trail of gasoline. The brothers stood there as they watched the home go up in flames.

Sam patted his hand on Dean's back, "come on, let's get out of here, before the authorities come."

Dean agreed. With Sam's help, they both made it back to the car. Once they had drove far enough away Sam pulled over to the side of the road.

"Dude, you look like shit." he said to Dean.

He didn't even have a sarcastic remark to shoot back at Sam. He felt worse than what he looked, that he was sure of.

"Sam, I'm tired, I can't do this anymore."

"Just hang in there." Sam said as he pulled back onto the road and headed back to the home he had been staying at for months.


	5. Chapter 5

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 5

Shock filled the boys as they pulled up to the home they had stayed at. The one Sam called home for so many months.

The flowers that Dean had admired, they were all dead, rotten. Lining the pathway and porch were rotted flowers, brown not a lush green like he remembered. The steps leading to the porch were falling in, the wood just as rotted as the flowers. The front door was barely hanging on the hinges. The siding to the house was old, pealed paint, some of the pieces were missing.

The brothers walked inside. The floorboards creaked when they walked on them. There was an old blue couch with a flowered chair sitting beside it. The fireplace that Sam and Beth had romantic moments in front of, boarded up, keeping critters out of the home. The kitchen hadn't been used in years. Upstairs, the rooms were all empty. The stairs seemed dangerous, rotting from the weather and lack of upkeep.

The roof was caving in causing damage to the rooms that Sam once loved. The nursery wasn't even recognizable, the roof had completely collapsed into the room, hiding the floor and blocking any access to the room. As Sam stood there, staring at the nursery he spoke.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?" Dean was standing beside his brother.

"Can we burn it?"

"Hell yeah!" Dean replied, as a smile creeped on both of their faces.

They covered what was left of the house with gasoline and watched it go up in flames, the same as the last house they were at. The boys sat in the car, far enough away from the home that they wouldn't be suspected of setting the fire, but close enough they could still see the smoke rising from it.

"Dean, we gotta get you better, man."

Dean agreed, but knew what the doctors had told him. "Sam, I don't… I don't know if that's going to be… look, the doctors said I needed to keep this crap up or I'd die, but I'm so tired, I can't Sam, please, I can't."

Dean began to plead with his brother to not make him do dialysis again.

"Dean, I… I don't know what to do, man. I can't let you die on me, you gotta hang on. I need you to hang on, even if that means you keep doing the treatments. It could get better, right? You could heal? That's what you said, Dean. Nothing is set in stone, right?"

Sam wasn't going to let his brother go, not without fighting, not without every chance he could give him.

"Sam, don't." Dean interrupted him.

"Okay, let's see if we can get you in to see a doctor, okay? Find out what's going on. Find out how you're doing?" Sam pleaded.

"If we do, will you leave me alone about this?"

"Yes!"

"Fine, whatever" Dean sounded defeated. "But, Sam can we get out of this town?"

"Yeah, sure." Sam replied as he started up the car and drove a couple towns over.

It was getting late. Sam was sure every doctor was closed by now.

"Dean, let's get a motel and find someone to see tomorrow?"

Dean nodded his head.

Sam got a room and helped his brother inside. Dean collapsed on the bed, thankful for some comfort for once.

"Dean." Dean had decided that Sam always had this need to fill the silence with girly moments. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. You gotta believe me. I wish I could take it all back. I wish you could have had a happier life. A better life."

Dean rolled over to face his brother. "Sam, I don't know how many times I have to tell you this, it's not your fault, nothing in my life is your fault. I made decisions, decisions I knew would have consequences and I dealt with them, okay?"

"No, not everything was your decision. Did you really want to be tied to a chair and beat? Did you really make the decision to be tied to a bed and traded for a bar tab? Dean, I want you to be honest with me, please, just for once."

Sam stopped to wipe the drop that ran down from his eye. Dean rubbed his face with his hand, pushing himself to a seated position against the wall.

"Sam, what do you want me to say?"

Dean was exhausted, he had no tolerance for anyone right now, but knew, he may not wake up in the morning, so he was willing to do, or say, what he needed to leave his brother happy.

"I don't know, Dean. I want you to be honest with yourself. Honest with the fact that you didn't choose everything that happened to you, that everything wasn't your fault."

Sam had his eyebrows raised, looking at his brother, waiting for him to agree with him.

"Sam, look… it's easier that way, okay? It's easier than saying I had a fucked-up father that created a fucked-up family. It's easier than admitting that I'm equally as fucked up." Dean buried his head in his hands.

"Dean, you're not fucked up."

"yeah, yeah I am. The thing is, everything, and I mean everything, from the beginning, from day one, I never tried to stop anything. I just accepted the life that I was handed. I accepted that I was a punching bag and nothing more. It was just the way life was. Nothing I could do about it."

Dean sounded so defeated, so exhausted. "Sam, I just accepted it. But, I also accepted that your life didn't need to be that way too. You were worth so much more! You deserved so much more. You needed to be happy. You deserved to be happy. You deserved the life I never had. The childhood, the love I never had the chance to experience."

Dean paused to wipe the exhaustion from his face. "Dad didn't love me, not the way he did you. I was only good as a soldier. Good for following his orders and that's all. He didn't care what happened to me, not as long as he got his way. It was always Dad's way or the highway. Actually, it was Dad's way or get the hell beat out of you. Sam, I'm sorry, okay. I know you don't like it. I know you don't want to see it for what it is, but it's true, okay. It's true. I allowed everything that happened to me to happen. I allowed myself to be hurt, so you didn't have to be."

Dean had tears flooding his eyes, he wasn't able to contain them anymore as they dripped down his face.

"Dean…" The only thing Sam was able to get out was his brother's name before Dean stopped him.

"Sam, I don't know what you want from me. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. What do you want to hear? Do you want to hear that I enjoyed being beat on? That the pain caused me some type of pleasure? That I enjoyed being raped or Dad's own personal sex object? Huh?"

The sadness was flooding his eyes, but the aggravation and anger was flooding his voice. "Is that what you want to hear? Do you want me to say that I enjoyed being with guys? Because I didn't. I hated it. More than you could possibly imagine. Every bit of it, I hated it. I lived in constant fear. I never knew what each day would hold for me. I never knew what kind of mood Dad would be in, or how much he would drink."

He wiped his face, frustrated at this sudden anger he was feeling. "I just expected every day of my life to be full of pain. I was constantly looking over my shoulder, not for some monster to fight, but for my own dad, our dad. He would walk past me, for no reason at all and just knock me to the ground. If I was standing by a wall, he would slam my head into it, just because he felt like it. I didn't fight it. I didn't stop it. I knew if I did then it would make it worse for me and he would turn to you."

He softened his voice as he continued. "I had to keep you safe, no matter what. When you got big enough to notice things I begged Dad not to tell you that he hit me. I begged him not to do anything in front of you. He agreed, just as long as I didn't fight him. As long as I allowed him to do anything he wanted, he wouldn't touch you, or let you know what happened behind closed doors."

A small curve appeared at the ends of his lips for just a moment. "You were happy. You didn't have a clue, that's the way it's supposed to be. You're supposed to be happy, you're not supposed to know the pain that I endured, you're not supposed to know the sacrifices I had to make. But, it was more than just the beatings, Sam."

Dean's tone had changed, he started to go down memory lane, spilling out the memories onto his brother, "We were in northern Michigan, it was the middle of winter. He made me strip naked, and he tied me to a chair, with ropes, by this time I had gotten used to it. I was used to a lot of things. I was probably around 8 at the time. He tied me to the chair and threw me outside, I landed on my side, in the deep snow. I'm not sure how long he left me there. I know it was hours. I was freezing. Dad said I was weak, I needed more training. I needed to be stronger."

He had seemed to zone out with the memories. "I think, the only reason he let me back in was because he was forced to take care of you. But, when he pulled me back inside, I was still tied to the chair, he took his belt and beat me with it before he untied me. But, the beating, it wasn't as bad as being left in the cold, that freezing sensation."

He looked at Sam, but seemed to almost look through him instead. "The thing is, he told me… when he told me to undress… that if I didn't he would make you do it, that you would be hurt. I couldn't let that happen. I had to protect you. After that, Dad started using you as a pawn. He would threaten to hurt you if I didn't do what he wanted. He knew I would never allow that. It was some mind game he played, that's all. Sam, there's so much I couldn't even begin to tell you." Dean stopped to dry his face.

"Like what?"

"Sam…" Dean hesitated. "Okay, like… um… he would have his moments, where he would make me cook you and him a big meal, enough to feed you and me for a week, but, after I cooked it, I had to sit at the table. I had to watch the two of you eat the food that I cooked."

He wasn't sure where the water works had come from, but paused, once again, to dry the tears on his face. "I wasn't allowed to touch it. I wasn't allowed to eat, the longest he would make me go without eating was a week. He told me it was to build strength. He would make me undress, a lot, usually like to take a shower or something, and he would make me compare myself to him, our size, the fact he was a man and I wasn't. He made me feel bad about it. He would make fun of me, tell me I wasn't ever going to be the man he was."

He shrugged. "Just another mind game I guess. He would use it to humiliate me, embarrass me. He also, um… he enjoyed kicking me, there, he said I needed to be able to handle the pain, that I needed to…"

Dean had to stop again, to catch his breath and dry his eyes. "Sam, I really don't know how to make you understand what you're wanting to understand. I can't make you feel what you want to feel. I'm sorry. I don't want you to. I don't want you to know how it feels. I don't want you to know the humiliation, the shame I've felt. I don't want you to know the pain."

Dean was practically begging Sam to let him stop, to make the memories stop. "There's no way to help you understand what it's like to give your own father a blow job. To be forced to swallow whatever he wanted. Or have yourself given to others, the feeling that a damn drink is more important than your own son. I don't want you to know how it feels to be unloved, to have no one who cares for you, no one to take care of you."

Dean was rambling, and Sam let him. He figured it was something Dean needed to say, needed to get off his chest. So, instead of telling him to stop talking, like he wanted to, he just sat and listened, letting Dean continue with what he needed to say.

"I can't help you see how hard, and painful, it was to cover all he bruises and cuts caused by the beatings. I can't Sam. I don't know how. I don't know how to make you see what you want to see. The way it feels when your insides are ripped open and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. That feeling, when you can't fight, even when you want to, you can't stop what's happening. Or the way the deepest fear feels, the one that denies you the breath you should be breathing. The fear that you may not wake up in the morning, the fear that each heartbeat might be your last."

Had he momentarily gone from the past to the present? He needed to stop while he still could. There was no way he could let Sam know the fears he held for the night time, or the days ahead. "The fear that…"

He needed to shift this back to what he was originally talking about. "That the pain was going to be too much, more than anyone could possibly handle. I've felt more pain than anyone could imagine. I'm not just talking about hunting injuries. I'm talking about from our own dad, or his people. He… he had one way to keep hunters around, even if he managed to piss them off, they would stay around to help him, because… because of me. Because, I was such a pretty boy, pretty lips, pretty eyes, pretty ass…."

He shook the thought from his head. "Sam, I hate my life, I can't tell you how many times I begged Dad to just kill me, how many times I hoped that the beating I was getting would be bad enough to end everything." Dean paused again, giving Sam a chance to talk.

"Dean, why did you fight so hard? Why did you fight so hard to stay alive?"

"For you. I couldn't leave you. I couldn't leave you with Dad. I couldn't trust him to take care of you." Dean dropped his head into his hands. Tears dripping between his fingers.

"Sam, I'm so sorry," Dean continued, "I know you want more from me but it hurts, it all hurts too much. The memories, they are too much! Especially right now, I'm so exhausted, so sick. I can't keep anything… hidden. I can't pretend anymore, not right now. I'm sorry, I'm not the strong brother that you always thought I was. I can't be your hero. I can't even protect you right now. Sam, I've failed. I've failed you and I'm sorry."

"Dean." Sam sat beside him, wrapping his arms around him, pulling his brother into him, letting Dean bury his face into his chest. "You haven't failed me. I promise you haven't. And, you have saved me so many times, you will always be my hero, always be my protector. It's okay. It's going to be okay."

Sam let Dean cry it out. He couldn't believe he was putting his brother through so much, he felt selfish.

"Sam." Dean pulled himself away from his brother, but not without his brother's help. Dean was getting weaker and weaker.

"Sam, I don't know why I allowed so much. I don't know why our dad had to be such a drunk, or an ass when he drunk. I don't know why our lives had to turn out like it did. You know, I always thought I'd go down swinging. I'd go out in some hunt or something, the hero way. I never imagined I'd go out like this. Over some stupid injury."

Dean sounded mad at himself. "You know, I've had more injuries than I can even remember. Pretty much, everything inside of me has been bruised, had lacerations, bleeding. I'm sure I've broken every single rib at some point or another. I've had both legs broke, multiple times, both arms broke. Head injuries, concussions, hell, I'm not even sure how many times. I never dreamt of this. I never thought my damn kidneys would shut down on me. My liver, yeah, I figured it's pretty much toast, hell I've drank enough to kill a damn elephant."

"Dean, we're gonna figure this out, okay? We'll get you fixed up."

Sam tried his hardest to reassure his brother, but honestly there was no way he could, not through the tears he was shedding.

"Sam, I would do anything for you, you know that, right?" Dean was looking at Sam with as much seriousness as he could.

"Yeah."

"Will you, will you… Sam, I can't… I can't do this anymore. I… will you… help me? Please?" Dean couldn't believe his life had come down to this.

"What do you mean?" Sam was confused.

Dean held his hand out, holding his gun. "Sam, please, I can't, I can't do it, I've tried and I can't. Will you please, I need this to stop. I'm so… miserable. It hurts, a lot. And I'm sick, so much." Dean dropped his head when he saw the look on his brother's face. "Never mind."

"Dean, I… I can't. I'm sorry but I can't."

Dean just nodded his head, understanding. "Sam, my head is so messed up. Things I think about, things I get used to, the way I think, it's so messed up! Sometimes… sometimes I wish Dad was around. I got used to it, you know. I got used to the punishments he would give me, sometimes, I think I still deserve it, I deserve a punishment, like he used to give."

Dean gave a slight chuckle at himself. "Maybe this is my punishment? Maybe this… going out this way, is my punishment."

"Punishment for what?"

"For being me." Dean whispered as he laid his head on Sam's shoulder.

He was so exhausted. All he wanted to do was have it all end.

"Dean, lay down, get some rest."

Sam helped him remove his boots and pants and get under the covers, he then got himself ready for bed and crawled beside Dean. He wrapped his arms around Dean, giving him some comfort. It didn't take long before they were both fast asleep.

Sam woke up early to make some phone calls. He found a doctor to take Dean to.

"Dean." Sam gave him a slight shake. "Hey, Dean, I need you to wake up, man, we gotta get you to the doctor."

Dean was hard to wake up, he felt like shit froze over. Sam got him up and helped dress him, he had to pretty much do everything. He helped him into the car, and out of the car when they arrived at the doctor. He was so worn out, so exhausted. He just laid on the table in the doctor office. The doctor came in, did an exam, asked a bunch of questions, inserted a catheter to extract some urine for testing. Then sent him for a scan followed by dialysis.

He said he should have results by the end of the day but for now, he needed to do his treatments for the day. Dean didn't have the energy to argue with them. He did as he was told, just as he was trained to do. After the long day, Sam and Dean finally made it back to their room. Dean collapsed. Sam tried to get him to eat something but Dean was too sick. He had been vomiting all day. He passed out before he realized he had

" _Dean, take your shirt off boy!"_

 _John said as he removed his belt, Dean doing as he was told._

" _Bend over the chair, NOW!"_

 _He continued to do as he was told. His father's belt came down with so much force over his bare skin. It didn't take long for the sound of the belt to change. As his blood started soaking his back from the cuts the belt was leaving. Dean didn't cry, he didn't fight. He laid over the chair allowing his dad to beat him, he beat him until he got tired of it._

 _It had to been at least 20 whacks across his back. Dean slumped to the floor. His dad kicked him in the ribs 3 times before grabbing his throat and pulling him to his feet. He couldn't have been more than 10 years old. He didn't know where Sam was. He wasn't sure if he was there or not, he figured not, since after his dad pulled him to his feet, he pushed him back down, making him stay in front of him, on his knees._

 _He unbuckled his pants, making Dean give him his specialty. Once he was finished he was rewarded by a slap across the face, so hard it slammed him against the floor, followed by a couple more kicks._

" _Go shower, boy. You're nasty, you're a disgrace to the family. I'm ashamed to even call you my son. You're filthy piece of trash."_

 _Another kick to the stomach. "You're nothing to me, nothing but a good piece of meat. Nothing but something to keep everyone happy."_

 _Dean felt the shame rise in him. he was in so much pain._

Sam sat and watched his brother toss and turn, fighting his dreams, fighting what was in his head. Sam's phone rang, it was the doctor. Sam didn't want to wake Dean, or allow him to hear what was said, in case it was bad news, so he stepped outside to talk. Leaving Dean to sleep, to fight whatever demons were invading his dreams.

" _No, Dad, no, please!" Dean begged. "Please!" He screamed._

 _He was tied to the chair, the one bolted to the floor. He was completely naked. His dad wasn't the only one in the room, there were other men, other adults, he wasn't sure who they were. He didn't remember this, wasn't even sure if it was a real memory or some messed up dream._

 _His dad's belt was flying down slamming against him. He paid special attention to the area between his legs. Making the other men in the room laugh out with joy. His mind then skipped, he was four years old again, watching his mom burn on the ceiling. Wishing he could climb up there and burn with her. Then, his dad's belt came crashing down on him, the sting made tears flood from his eyes, as his mom burned on the ceiling his dad beat him._

 _His dream appeared to be all over the place. Memories skipping from place to place. All seemed to be bad memories. Nothing good about this dream. His mind flashed again. He was at the home they found Beth. He was laid over the table, his pants removed. Guys taking turns on him. He didn't even fight them. He just allowed it to happen._

 _He can't even remember feeling shameful about it. He remembered the pain but not any shame. How could he not feel shame? Was he that used to that kind of treatment?_

" _I didn't raise no fag." his dad's voice rattled in his brain. "Do I need to beat that out of you?" "I think you need to learn a lesson, boy."_

 _He then felt something, it tore as it was forced inside him. It wasn't caused by his dad. He wasn't sure who was doing it, who was hurting him. His mind felt so mixed up. Someone else was hurting him._

" _Do you like that? Does it feel good?"_

 _His dad's face was pressed into his as he asked him if he was enjoying what, god knows who, was doing to him._

" _Answer me, boy! I asked do you like it?"_

 _Dean wasn't sure what to answer. He didn't know what his dad wanted to hear. That was the only reason he hadn't answered. He was too afraid of giving the wrong answer. Suddenly, a pain like he never felt before, being torn open like he never remembered._

" _You better answer me, boy." His dad was beyond pissed by this point._

" _Yes sir!" Dean shouted through the pain._

 _He wasn't even sure what he was answering anymore. His dad's laugh filling his ears. More pain filling his body. He didn't think he could handle much more. His body was trembling. His memory changed but his body was still trembling. It was just another bad memory. He was standing outside, in the snow, it was above his waist and he was naked, not even his boxers._

" _Dad, please!" Dean cried. "It's cold, daddy, please can I come in?"_

" _I thought I told you to shut the fuck up boy!"_

 _His dad yelled as he backhanded him across the face. Knocking him completely into the snow. His entire body covered with snow. He jumped to his feet, just to be knocked back down by another slap. That continued a few times before his dad went inside._

" _It's too cold to be out here." His dad, who was wrapped in his coat, said, leaving Dean out to freeze._

Sam returned to the room to find Dean covered in sweat. His fists were balled, grasping onto the sheets beneath him. his body was tense, his head tossing around, he was mumbling. "No, Dad, please, no." over and over.

Sam gave Dean a little shake. "Hey, Dean."

That's all it took, he shot up as fast as he could, the sheets below him soaked. Wide eyed, confused. He felt so confused and full of fear.

"Sam?" he questioned more than stated.

"Yeah, buddy, I'm right here."

Dean jumped as Sam placed his hands onto his brother's shoulders.

"Hey, Dean, it's okay." Sam reassured him.

Dean calmed his breathing but his body continued to tremble. "Sam?" Dean repeated.

"I'm here, Dean, it's me, it's okay." Sam repeated.

Dean grabbed his brother's hands that were on his shoulders, and pulled him closer to him. Sam wrapped his arms around Dean to calm his trembling and allow his brother to cry out his newest emotions.


	6. Chapter 6

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 6

Dean had fallen asleep with his face buried in his brother's shirt. Sam knew if Dean was in his right mind there was no way he would show that kind of weakness. No way he would ever cry as much as he had, or open up the way he's been doing.

But, Dean wasn't in his right mind. He was sick, hurt, dying. The doctor had given Sam good news. He laid Dean back onto the bed as careful as he could, without waking him. Dean, for the moment, looked calm and peaceful, but Sam knew it wouldn't be long before the nightmares started again. Dean was weak and unable to control his thoughts, or dreams, right now.

Sam had to go to the pharmacy. The doctor had called Dean in a prescription to help him. Sam figured while Dean was peaceful looking it would be the perfect time to go. He figured he could get back before the nightmares got too bad.

He wrote a quick note for Dean, letting him know where he went, just in case he woke before he got back. Sam quickly and quietly slipped out of the room to make his way to the pharmacy. When he arrived, he was informed the medicine wasn't ready for pick up yet, so he decided instead of returning to the motel he would get himself something to eat.

He needed this little break, he had been cooped up with Dean, constant worry, constant care taking. He didn't mind it so much, but needed just a little moment to clear his head and destress himself.

" _Do you want me to go get Sammy?" His dad asked with a hateful tone._

" _No Sir!" Dean replied without hesitation._

" _Then I'd suggest you finish what you were told to do, or I'll make your brother suffer for your disobedience."_

 _John had taken Dean out in the middle of nowhere. Made him run for an hour straight. He even set a timer to make sure it was exactly an hour. Dean had almost completed it. He ran for 45 minutes before he collapsed to the ground. His legs were feeling like jello. His lungs burned from the lack of oxygen mixed with the cold air he was fighting to breath in._

 _His head was aching and starting to spin. He couldn't keep his eyes focused on where he was running. Not like it mattered. He was just running a big circle through the woods. It was a cold morning. When he had started running the sun hadn't risen yet. By now, it was peeking through, leaving light where once was darkness._

 _Dean jumped to his feet with his dad's threat and started running again. There was no way he was going to let Sammy get hurt. He couldn't feel his legs, he just willed them to move and they did. When he finished his dad already had his belt in his hand._

 _He told Dean to remove his shirt and pull his pants to his ankles. Dean hated this so much, but knew he deserved it. His dad told him it was because he had fallen, because it took him too long to get back up. He should be stronger than that. He needed strengthening._

 _Dean did as he was told and stood with his hands bracing him against a tree. His back turned to his dad. He tried hard not to let out any painful cries as his belt hit his skin. His dad just swung. He didn't care where he hit. He was everywhere, from his shoulders to his knees, he was leaving marks from his belt. He started gaining speed, and strength, with each whip of his belt, until Dean collapsed to the ground._

 _He couldn't stand any longer. He couldn't take any more pain. He was exhausted. He tried to scramble back to his feet but failed miserably. His dad, angrier than before, slammed his belt against him what must have been at least 10 more times as he curled himself into a ball on the ground._

 _Once he was finished, he ordered Dean to redress and get to the car. Dean did as he was told, again by pure will power, as he felt there was no more strength left in his body. The ride back to the place they were staying was a quiet one. Neither of them speaking a word._

 _Upon arrival, John ordered Dean to begin cooking him and Sam some breakfast. All Dean wanted to do was go back to bed. His dad had only allowed him a couple hours sleep. He kept him up late, after Sam had went to bed, and woke him up early for training. His body was so sore, not just from the beating, but his muscles ached, and trembled from the forced running, and from the events the night before._

 _Sammy had woken up just as Dean was finishing breakfast. He sat the two plates on the table. One for Sam and one for Dad. Dad had told him to fix him and Sam a plate, he didn't mention Dean eating, and he knew better than to fix himself some food without his dad's permission right now. He was being punished for his weakness._

" _Sir." Dean turned to his dad as he sat at the table in front of his hot breakfast. "Can I… would it be okay if I went and took a shower? And put on some clean clothes? Please?"_

 _Dean's voice trembled with both fear and weakness. His dad agreed, but not before commenting on how trashy he was and how bad he stunk._

 _Dean gathered his clothes and headed to the bathroom. The warm water felt good on his sore muscles and washed away all the drying blood. He wished he could stay in there forever. He enjoyed the peacefulness, the silence. He knew once he was finished his life would be back to the hell he was used to, but he also knew if he stayed in there too long his dad would use that as a reason for punishment._

 _He washed his hair and his body, being sure to get all the dirt and blood off that he could. Quickly redressing into clean clothes and exiting the bathroom. He was just in time. His dad and brother had just finished eating, now Dean had dishes to wash._

 _Sammy wanted to help, really, he just wanted to be around his big brother, but their dad lifted him in his arms and carried him to the couch, talking about how he was too little and should be watching cartoons instead. Sammy couldn't have been more than 5 or 6 years old at the time._

 _John and Sam sat in front of the tv watching cartoons until they both fell asleep in each other's arms. Dean had finished the dishes and cleaned the house, deciding, if his dad was asleep, it would be okay for him to sleep as well, all his chores where done after all. So, Dean snuck into his room, leaving the door cracked opened, he knew if he latched it shut it would wake his dad._

 _He was so thankful when he collapsed on his bed, so exhausted that his eyes closed almost instantly, darkness of sleep soon followed._

" _De De De!"_

 _Sam was jumping on Dean, waking him, wanting him to play. Dean didn't have the energy, but could never tell Sam no. He gave him a big grin then grabbed him in his arms and tossed him on the bed beside him and started tickling the youngster. Sam giggled with glee he wanted Dean to chase him around the house, so of course, he did just that._

 _Sam was full of energy on this particular day. Dean was not, he was exhausted and sore, but that was his little brother and when it came to Sam nothing else mattered, especially not the way Dean felt. He noticed his dad was still asleep on the couch._

" _DE! Let's go to park!" Sam exclaimed._

 _Dean figured that was a good idea, that way they didn't risk waking their dad. Dean agreed and they headed out to the park. Dean played with his little brother, running around, chasing him. They slid down the slides together and he pushed Sam on the swings. He didn't know how long they had been there. He had lost track of time, but his little brother was having so much fun and Dean was enjoying being out of that run-down apartment they were renting, and away from his dad._

 _By the time they made it back to the apartment it was getting late. Their dad had woken long ago, by the time the boys returned he was furious! Dean had forgotten to leave his dad a note, telling him where they were. He also didn't carry any protection with him._

 _John wasn't stupid, he had left to go find his boys and was even more pissed when he found them at the park, playing. Not training or anything useful, just playing. Dean didn't miss the look on his dad's face when they stepped through the door._

" _Hey Sammy, why don't you go take a shower and clean up while I fix supper."_

 _Sammy didn't question him, "okay, De." And he bounced his way toward the shower._

 _Dean started a pan of boiling water for the mac n cheese he was making. Then turned to his dad. He knew he was in trouble, but also knew he had to take care of Sammy._

" _I…I'm sorry, sir." Dean scattered to try to get his words in line with his thoughts. "Sssssammy wanted to…" he was cut off by a slap across the face._

" _Sammy wanted to what, boy?" His dad hissed, delivering another backhand across Dean's face. "What the hell is wrong with you? You didn't even tell me where the hell you were going! You could have gotten your brother killed out there! Or, do you not care about that, huh?" John was screaming at him._

" _I'm sorry."_

 _Dean spoke with his head hanging low and his voice even lower. Just then, Sam came out of the bathroom._

" _What's wrong, De?" Sam asked and he walked over to his brother and wrapped his arms around him._

 _John was never mean to him, quite the opposite, but for some reason when his dad screamed like he was doing it scared him. He just wanted to curl up to his brother when he got scared. Dean placed his arm around his brother's back to comfort him. John gave Dean a look, one that told him this wasn't over. The look that said 'later', Dean knew he had a punishment coming._

 _He pushed that thought, that fear away, and took care of his little brother. He fed him his supper, making his dad a plate as well. He was starving. He wasn't allowed to eat breakfast and they played through lunch. He turned and looked at John, giving him a questionable look, his dad just slowly shook his head no._

 _Dean knew he couldn't eat supper either. He sat down, next to Sam. His dad sitting across from him, he again asked for permission to take a shower, this time he was denied, he was told 'later'. Damn, Dean knew what that meant. It meant he was going to need a shower later, he was going to need to wash the blood off his body once his dad was finished with him._

 _After Sam ate, Dean tucked him into bed, told him he needed to clean the house and wash dishes before he came to bed, but he'd be there soon, for Sammy to just go to sleep. Dean, full of fear, more fear than a 9-year-old should feel, he closed his and Sam's bedroom door and walked into the kitchen._

 _He cleaned off the table and started washing the dishes. He was almost done, didn't even hear his dad come up behind him. He shoved his face into the dishwater. Holding him there, while he fought to get him to release his head, to allow him a breath. About the time Dean thought that would never happen, his dad released him, his body falling to the floor in a heap, gasping for air._

 _He wasn't given much of a chance. He started kicking him in his side, stomach, head, anywhere his foot came into contact was a pleasure for him. John had spent the entire day drinking, festering in his mind what Dean had done, how he risked his brother, took him out without telling him. He allowed himself to get angrier with every passing moment, with every sip of his drink._

 _Now that Sam was asleep, he was able to release every pinned-up emotion he had been building through the day. When his foot wasn't enough, he started using his fists, he didn't care where he hit. He didn't care how hard he hit him. Dean had quit whimpering with the pain. He fell silent, rolled himself into a ball, covering his head, and face, with his arms, the only way he could protect himself._

 _Once his dad got bored, he grabbed Dean by the arm and pulled him to his feet. His head was spinning, he wasn't able to keep himself steady on his feet._

" _Mm sorry." Dean managed to mumble out._

" _Sorry don't cut it, boy!" John was still full of anger. He had to teach his boy a lesson, and he knew exactly how to do it. "If you can't stay put, I'll just have to make you!"_

 _He dragged his oldest son into his room. He had a cage in there, a large dog crate, or small prison, type of cage, barely big enough to fit a human in it. Good thing that Dean was still just a little kid, he would have more room than a grown adult. His dad tied his hands with ropes, as tight as he could get them, put tape over his mouth, and shoved him in the cage. After placing him in the cage he tied his hands to bars of the cage, covered it with a blanket, turned off his light and closed the door._

 _When morning came Sam was upset that his brother wasn't there. John made up some excuse, telling him he'd be back in a couple days. Dean remembers the fear he felt. The humiliation, he had to use the bathroom on himself, in the cage. He was there for 3 days, no food, no water, nothing but darkness. Complete darkness._

 _His dad never came into the room. He could hear them mumbling in the house but couldn't make out any actual words. At one point, he wasn't even sure his dad and brother were at the house, he was sure they left for an entire night, leaving Dean completely alone. He didn't remember being so scared in his life._

 _His mind started searching its memories. Thinking of all the times he felt scared. The times when he was little and knew he was going to be punished. He could judge by his dad's drinking how bad it was going to be. He remembered the beatings, the bruises and cuts his fists and boots caused. The whelps and lacerations his belt left on his body. The terror that would overcome him when he was requested to join his dad, or one of his dad's hunting buddies, in bed._

 _He hated it. He hated his life. He hated feeling fear. He tried, he tried hard to not feel it. He tried to laugh in the face of danger, make jokes in place of fear. Nothing compared to the fear he felt the night Sammy left. Nothing compared to the feelings of uncertainty. Nothing compared to the pain he felt that night._

 _He tried to fight those men, he was restrained. God, he hated being restrained. He always feels the fear when the sensation of ropes graces his wrists. That night, he had an entire body full of fear. He fought, but it did him no good. He couldn't fight against the restraints. Again, at the house with Beth, the guys who overpowered him, again with those damn ropes!_

 _The fear, god he hated fear. It ran through his blood, making it feel like his blood was boiling. He thought for sure his time was up, the pain, alone, was enough to drive anyone crazy. The feeling of someone else inside of him, drove his mind crazy. Made it unable for him to think straight. He just wanted it to stop. Even now, in his dream, he wasn't able to separate the thoughts in his mind._

 _He wasn't sure what time in his life he was in. he wasn't sure who was surrounding him. he knew there were men, a lot of them. He knew the pain he was feeling was more than just one man, or maybe more than just one part of him. It felt more like a hand, maybe? He wasn't completely sure, all he knew was that the pain was radiating through his body, causing his blood to boil with fear._

 _He couldn't help but release cries of pain, even through gritted teeth. His fists clenched, tightly. His jaw locked with the pain. The ropes pulled against his wrists as tight as they could. The pain getting more intense with each passing moment. He couldn't get it to stop, couldn't stop the fear, couldn't stop the fear. It was rising, boiling in his blood._

Sam returned with the medications from the pharmacy. He found his brother laying in the bed where he left him. The covers were wrapped around him, tied into knots, from all the tossing and turning he did. He had sweat beading off his head. His hair soaked with the sweat. The sheets below him equally as soaked. He had a death grip on his covers.

He was moaning, tossing back and forth. Obvious pain in the expression on his face. Sam's heart sunk, he had hoped to get back before his nightmares took over. He was beside his brother, kneeling beside his bed.

"Dean, Dean."

Sam spoke softly, trying not to startle his brother. He already had enough fear on his face, Sam didn't want to make it any worse. He gently placed his hand on his brother's shoulder, giving him a slight shake and rubbing his shoulder.

"Dean, hey man, you need to wake up, Dean." Sam continued with a calming voice but raised it slightly with each attempt to wake him. "DEAN!"

Sam was getting desperate to wake him, to stop the nightmares. Dean jumped awake, he was panicked, he tried to jump to a seated position. Tried to fight away. His body was too tangled in the blankets to be able to move much. Panic raised. He was teetering on the edge of a panic attack, unsure why he couldn't move, feeling like he was being restrained, like in his dreams, and there was a man there.

He wasn't awake enough, wasn't back to himself yet, he hadn't pieced together that the man beside him was his brother. He didn't realize he was safe, that he wasn't going to be hurt. Even though, Sam had tried to reassure him of this, he wasn't able to hear him. All he could hear was a muffled sound filling his ears, accompanied by a ringing, caused by his blood pressure being way too high.

He was in a full-blown panic attack by this time. Sam worked on getting the blankets untangled, with an attempt to free Dean from the restraints he felt. Once his body was free Dean wasted no time, he was off the bed, he moved faster than Sam realized he could in his current state.

He had huddled himself in the corner of the room. His knees bent to his chest, arms wrapped around them, his body was shaking, tears streaming down his face. He had his face buried in his knees. Sam rushed to his brother's side.

"Dean, it's okay, you're safe."

Sam spoke in a calming voice then placed a reassuring hand on his brother's back. Dean's entire body shuttered with Sam's touch.

"Dean, it's me, Sam, it's okay. I've got you, you're safe, it's okay."

Dean was still out of it. Still in the middle of a panic attack. His body still shaking uncontrollably. Sam didn't give up on him, he continued to rub small circles between Dean's shoulders, using a calming voice to reassure him he was safe.

Slowly, Dean began to calm his breathing. His body shakes turned to trembles. He slowly lifted his head, his eyes were glazed over, tear marks running down his face.

"Sam?" Dean whispered in low, almost inaudible voice.

"Yeah, I'm right here, Dean. I'm right here. It's okay, you're safe. It's okay."

Dean just sat there, calming down his breathing, still staring at Sam with glazed over eyes, almost lifeless.

"Hey, Dean, it's okay."

Sam continued to reassure him. Dean's eyes became clearer with each moment. He blinked his eyes, trying to clear his head, and his line of vision.

"Sam?" Dean repeated.

"Yeah, bro, I'm right here."

Dean's body began to untense. He stayed curled in the corner but his muscles began to ease up.

"Ssssam… please… don't let them hurt me." he begged, still not completely sure what was going on and where he was at. "Cccan't tttake anymore." He stuttered.

"Dean, it's okay, no one is going to hurt you. It's just you and me here, man, you're safe. You're safe."

Sam was still trying to keep a calm tone, but, inside, he was screaming. He just wanted his brother to be okay. Dean sat, huddled in the corner, for close to an hour before he felt comfortable enough to move, before the fear eased up enough that he felt safe with his brother. Dean relaxed his legs, and arms, still sitting against the wall.

"Sssam? Are you sure? Are you sure it's safe?" He asked, still unsure of his surroundings.

"Yeah, yeah, Dean. It's safe, it's just you and me, it's safe here. No one is going to hurt you, I promise."

Dean gave him a slow nod assuring his brother he was beginning to understand.

"Come on Dean, let's get off this nasty floor." Sam suggested, again Dean just gave a slight nod and allowed his brother to help him stand.

He looked at the bed and resisted. He chose to sit in the chair beside him instead. He had fear flickering in his eyes when he looked at his bed, the thoughts, the memories, of his dream coming back to him. He had to be safe. He didn't want anyone restraining him to the bed.

"Dean, buddy, it's okay, no one is going to hurt you, I promise." Sam repeated.

He gave his brother a glass of water and a damp, cool rag to wash his face with, both helped him calm down and feel better.

"Thanks." He mumbled, still feeling weak. "Sam, I… I'm sorry." Dean said as he hung his head low.

"Dean, it's okay. Are, um, are you okay?" He asked with hesitation.

"I don't know." Dean admitted honestly. "I'm just… I'm tired Sam. I… I don't, I can't keep doing this."

"Dean, it'll get easier, it'll get better, man." Sam reassured him.

Clearing his throat, he continued. "So, the doctor called while you were asleep. He had some good news. He said your kidneys haven't completely failed. They are just really damaged. He gave you some medicine that I picked up at the pharmacy, said it will help, said it should get them kick started again, take some swelling away, make things work again."

Dean gave him a doubtful look.

"Hey, it can't hurt to try."

Sam opened the bottle of pills and handed him one. Dean took it without question. He was so tired of the damn dialysis, he was willing to try anything else.

"Dean," Sam started, "wanna talk about it?"

"Why do you have an overwhelming need to fill each moment with a chick talk?"

Sam gave a little chuckle. He knew his brother was right, but he also wanted to help his brother, and didn't know any other way to do it. "Dean, you've been having nightmares, every night, I don't know what to do." Sam was admitting defeat.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong with me. My head, it's like it's everywhere. I can't concentrate, I'm not even sure what's real and what isn't anymore. I mean, I think everything in my dreams are real, but, it's like it's all screwed up. Sometimes they start out happy. Sometimes not. They will go from being a teenager then skip to a 5-year-old then back to an adult. I just don't know anymore, Sam. I wish I did. I wish to God I did. But I don't."

Dean hung his head, dropping it into his hands, he had reached the point that he was now admitting defeat, defeat over his own mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 7

Sam had been letting so much slip by lately, he was afraid to push his brother too much, especially in his fragile state. But, today was different. Sam was worn out. He didn't know how much more he could take. He didn't know how much more Dean could take.

He was tired of trying to walk on eggshells. He was tired of things the way they were. All he wanted was their lives to get back to normal. He needed his big brother back. He feels like he lost his brother close to a year ago. He couldn't even remember, now, what started the whole thing. He knew Dean had gone into a dark place, that he had a lot of pinned up pain and memories that festered until he felt like the only result was to end his own life.

Dean had struggled so much during his life. He made one sacrifice after another, mostly for this brother. If not for his brother, then he was sacrificing himself for the good of others. Never for himself. Dean had learned how to find his own worth in the worth of others. He knew he had to do something to get Dean back to the old Dean.

He sat there, thinking of how to do it, what to say. Finally, he had decided he wasn't going to let his fears get the best of him. What his brother really needed was for Sam to be there for him. He needed a shoulder to cry on, nonjudgmental, an open line of communication. A line that wouldn't be held over his head later.

He wasn't sure if Dean could trust that. If he would be willing to talk openly and honestly about everything that was twisting in his mind, but he had to try. He knew if he didn't, it would end up eating his brother alive.

Dean was exhausted. He had laid back down, tried to sleep again, with the promise from Sam that if he started having a nightmare he would wake him before it started. Sam was determined to keep that promise. He didn't want his brother to suffer any more than what he has. Dean started tossing in his sleep, as promised, Sam approached him, to wake him from his dream.

"Dean, hey Dean." Sam said gently as he gave his brother a shake.

Dean, still groggy, opened his eyes and looked up at his brother. His normal deep green eyes looked lost. For a moment, Sam's heart sank, he then released a sigh of relief as Dean, for the first time since his injuries, got up and used the bathroom. He was already showing improvement, just after the first day on the new medicine.

"Feel better?"

"Weird." Dean said as a way of correcting Sam on the way he felt.

Sam gave a chuckle. "Ever think you'd miss having to use the bathroom?"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother giving a quick shake of this head. He sat down in one of the chairs, across from Sam. He sunk his head in his hands.

"s'mmy." Dean mumbled, getting his brother's attention. "I'm thirsty. Like, really thirsty." He groaned.

"I'll go get you something. What do you want?"

"I don't know." Dean sounded worn out, like he didn't want to put in the effort to even think.

"I'll figure it out." Sam said as he stood to leave, being stopped by Dean grabbing his hand.

Sam turned, confused, looking at his brother's sad looking eyes, mixed with fear.

"Sssam." Dean stuttered. "I…I don't want… please don't go." He dropped his head to stop the tears that started stinging his eyes.

Sam sunk to his knees, placing himself in front of Dean. "I have to go if you want me to get you some drinks." Sam tried to talk some sense into his brother. "I'll only be gone for just a few minutes, it'll be okay, Dean, I promise. Just sit here, I'll be right back. And… and if you happen to fall asleep, I'll be back before your dreams get bad and I'll wake you up. Okay?"

Sam waited for his brother to hesitantly nod his head, understanding that what his brother said was pure logic.

"Wanna go with me?"

He knew Dean's answer would be no but he felt better asking anyhow. After reassuring him he would be back in only a few minutes he left to get his brother some much needed fluids, and decided to get him some sugar filled snacks while he was at it.

He knew his brother had to be getting hungry, but figured it would be hard on him if he tried to eat a full meal, he decided snacks that he could nibble on slowly would be best. He hurried as quick as he could and returned to his brother.

Dean was still sitting in the same chair where Sam left him. His feet were pulled up into the chair, his knees to his chest, his arms wrapped tight around them. He had a look of fear, a look of abandonment. Sam dropped down in front of Dean, again.

"Hey, Dean, it's okay, I'm back, it's okay."

Dean loosened his grip on his legs as he looked into his brother's eyes, feeling safe again. Sam stood and grabbed a drink out of the bag.

"Figured maybe a Gatorade would be good right now?" He handed Dean the drink. He then dumped the bag of snacks onto the table. "Figured maybe you'd want something to put in your stomach too? I didn't think an actual meal would settle well on your stomach right now, so I got you some stuff you could eat on, slowly, until you start feeling better."

Sam was making more of a question than a statement, hoping he was right with his decision. Dean had opened his beverage and took a small drink of it, then gave his brother a slight nod accompanied by a slight grin, reassuring him his thoughts were right.

His brother knew him better than anyone. Dean didn't dare take more than just small sips of his drink, making sure what he put into his stomach stayed there. Sam decided, this was his chance. His chance to talk to Dean.

"Hey Dean?" Sam started, getting his brother's attention.

"Yeah?"

"So, um, I know things haven't been exactly easy lately."

Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, giving a small chuckle, knowing his brother couldn't pass up the chance to turn any moment into a touchy-feely moment.

"Sam, really?"

"Dean… never mind." Sam dropped his head and went to stand up, Dean grabbed his hand that he was using to push on the table as he stood.

"Sam, I'm sorry." Dean said softly. "Sit back down, please?" Sam sat back in his chair as Dean continued. "I know it hasn't been easy on you either. I guess I… I sometimes forget that, I get wrapped up in my own self. I've been feeling sorry for myself, concentrating on my own pain and fears."

"Dean…" Sam cut Dean off. "It's okay to care about yourself. It's okay to take care of yourself, and not have to worry about everyone else. You don't need to feel sorry about doing that. That's been the one thing I've admired about you these past few weeks. You've taken better care of yourself, cared about yourself, more than I've ever seen you do before."

"For you." Dean nearly whispered, stopping Sam from what he was saying.

"Dean… the thing is, I know you care about me, I know you do so much for me. You have made so many sacrifices, for me! You've always been there, no matter what, you've always been my best friend. You've been my shoulder to cry on, my ears to vent to. You've been my doctor and my councilor."

Sam drew in a deep breath, slowing his speech. "I don't know if you realize it or not, but you've been everything I've ever needed. And why? Because, according to your own words, 'you're my big brother'. Well, I'm your little brother, and I know you better than anyone, just like you know me better than anyone possibly could."

Dean nodded, agreeing but not interrupting. "Right now, I know that you need that shoulder, and those ears. You need to cry and vent. It's eating you up, Dean. And I'm here, I'm right here, for you. And, right now, I need you to understand, anything we talk about, anything that happens here, in these walls, doesn't leave here."

He made sure he had Dean's full attention before he continued. "It won't be held over your head, or mentioned again, unless for some reason you need to bring it back up, then you have the right to do that, I'm leaving that up to you. But, Dean, you've got to release some of that crap that's inside you. I know from experience, when you can't get your head clear, it helps to talk through it, you don't need anyone to have the answers. You just need someone to listen. You just need to get it out in the open so you can sort through it."

Sam stopped, to be sure he didn't overwhelm Dean with his words.

"Sam." Dean finally said, his head still lowered, tears dripping from his eyes. "I… I don't know how."

"You just start talking. You start by the first thing that's in your mind. Just tell me what you're thinking right now."

"I'm thinking I have an annoying ass little brother." Dean smirked at Sam. "And…" He continued. "I feel like I'm the luckiest man alive to have that annoying brother."

Dean paused, wiping the tears from his face. "Sam, I don't know. Everything is just, I don't know. I keep remembering things that I don't want to remember. Things, I'm not even sure if it's completely real. Things I don't completely remember, and if I did, I didn't remember all the details, not like in my dreams. It's… it's confusing, to say the least."

"So, what's the first thing that you think of when you think about the dreams you've been having?"

"Fear." Dean was simple and to the point. He sat for a moment, silent after stating that, then continued.

"I always feel the fear. No matter what the dream ends up being about, no matter what happens in it, I always have that fear. It's a breath gripping, heart stopping fear. Everything… everything, no matter what anyone did, no matter what pain, or anything that anyone did… to me… I always had this life shattering fear."

Dean stopped for a moment, then a smile slowly made its way across Dean's lips. "You know, Sammy, I got in trouble a lot when I was younger. Most of the time it was my own doing. I was reckless and just didn't care, I know that. I know Dad was only trying his best to discipline me, and teach me, the only way he knew how. But, it didn't matter, not as long as what I did either protected you, or made you happy. There was this one time…"

Dean started reminiscing on the dream he had not too long ago. "When we were little. I was maybe 9 and you were like 5, anyhow, Dad made me get up in the middle of the night and run. I don't remember why, can't recall what I had done that particular time. But, he made me run for an entire hour, which I almost did, until the last few minutes."

Dean's smile faded but his spirits didn't. "Dude, I got the hell beat out of me until I got up and finished the run. Then, we went back to our home, I fixed you and Dad breakfast, and I showered. It was one of those times I wasn't allowed to eat, for one reason or another. After you ate, you and Dad snuggled together on the couch and watched cartoons until you fell asleep."

He couldn't help but release a little grin at the thought of his brother being so peaceful and innocent. "I washed dishes and cleaned the kitchen. After I was finished, I went in and laid down too. I was so scared I was going to get in trouble, you have no idea. It was this fear that I continuously kept inside of me. My body was so sore and exhausted, the benefit of sleep outweighed the punishment I could receive."

Again, his smile had faded. "But, you woke up, and started bouncing on me. I remember the pain waking me up. You didn't know better. You didn't have a clue what the morning was like for me. You were bored, wanted to go to the park. I told you no because I was too tired but you begged, and gave me those puppy dog eyes that you knew I couldn't say no to."

He chuckled at the thought. "Dad was still asleep, but I had forgotten to leave him a note, of course when he woke up and we were gone he was furious. But, Sammy, you were so happy! Your giggles and smiles, man, they just lit up my life. I would do anything for you, still would, but to see you happy, to see you being a kid, it was worth everything that happened when we got home." Dean's smile widened on his face as he thought about how happy little Sammy was.

"So, what happened when we got back home?"

"Well, Dad had woken up, and without a note and noticing I didn't carry any weapons with me, he naturally got concerned and went out looking for us. He found us at the park, but I didn't know it. He never approached us, never let either of us know he was there, protecting us."

He swallowed hard as he continued. "I lost track of time, until I realized it was getting late, it would be dark soon. Of course, you whined about going back, you just wanted 5 more minutes. But I knew we had to get back, especially before it got dark. Man, I don't think I had ever seen Dad so furious."

His hands trembled slightly. "That look in his eyes. He didn't say anything, not in front of you, but I could see it written all over his face. I started supper and drew your bath for you. When I got you in the bath, so you weren't in the room with us, Dad went off! He started hitting me, and when I fell to the floor, his kicks were worse than his fist."

His chin quivered with the trembling of his hands. "He couldn't yell too loud, or you would have heard him. He stopped, knowing I had to finish getting your supper and get you out of the bath. I knew you had to be starving, we played through lunch. Again, I wasn't allowed to eat supper either. And afterwards, I cleaned the dishes and the home then got you to bed."

He had found comfort in chewing on his bottom lip. "Once Dad was certain you were asleep, he took me to his room. I don't know why, I don't know what the purpose of it was, but he had this small cage. It was more like a big dog cage, made with extra strong bars. He tied my hands and feet, then tied my hands to the bars. I remember thinking I was glad I was so little because there was no way a grown man could fit into this thing, not without being rolled into a ball."

The tears threatened to leak from his eyes. "He placed a thick blanket over the cage, blocking out all light. It was double locked. He put a piece of tape over my mouth, just in case I thought about making a noise. He then, shut the light off and closed the door. I remember hearing muffled sounds of you and Dad, but I also think you guys went somewhere, over-night maybe? Maybe longer?"

He closed his eyes for an extra long blink, pushing back the tears that pricked at the edges of his eyes. "Dad later told me it had been 3 days. But, there was never any light that came through and no one ever entered the room, until Dad came to let me out."

He looked up at Sam for the first time since he started talking. "I don't even remember the story Dad told me to tell you, the reason I wasn't around, something about friends or something? I don't know. But, you weren't there when he let me out. He made sure of that. I couldn't move for 3 whole days. I'm not sure if part of it was the humiliation factor, but that part has for sure stuck in my head."

He couldn't seem to keep eye contact with his brother. "When I had to use the bathroom, I had no place to go, except on myself. The smell was getting bad by the time he came back. He made me clean the cage then take a shower to wash the smell off me, before you returned. I did learn my lesson. That was the last time I ever left without making sure he knew where we were at. The last time I didn't carry a weapon on me. So, I guess, in a way, his parenting worked." Dean chuckled at that thought.

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"Don't be, I'd do it all over again if it meant you had that one small chance at being a happy, normal kid."

"Was that the only time he ever did that to you?"

"The cage? Yeah, I never saw that thing again."

Sam just nodded, thankful for his brother's answer.

After taking a long breath, and another drink of his fluids, Dean continued. "The thing is, my dreams, sometimes, will start with something like that. A good, happy memory, then it will work all the way through the event, to the horrible end, but they don't stop there. If they continue, without being woken, they will jump from one thing to another. Like something from that memory triggered something else. Then my mind will jump into that something else."

Sam looked slightly confused, so Dean attempted to clarify himself.

"For example, what I just told you. God, I hated, still do, ropes around my wrists. I don't care what anyone uses to restrain my arms as long as it's not ropes. So, the thought of that, the thought of being tied by ropes to that cage, it triggers the fear inside of me."

Dean just shrugged. There was no other way to say what he was saying. He knew there had been several times they had been tied by some monster they hunted or another human, and never had he made mention of hating it so much.

"So…" Dean continued. "Then I start thinking of all the times I've been tied down with ropes, like Dad and everyone else on this damn earth, knows how much I hate that. I think about being tied to those chairs. The ropes as tight as they could be, being beaten by Dad's belt, or left alone, in the cold. I remember having my hands tied behind my back as I was taught how to get myself out of them."

He hadn't expected so much anger to make itself known. The thing is, when I was trained to do that, it wasn't like I was just tied and struggled to get free, no, that's not the way the real world works. I was kicked and whipped and… well you get the point. Because if someone ties me up, they aren't going to be very nice about it."

He paused to try to calm his voice. "And, then of course, there's the times those damn ropes tied my hands to the bed posts, while whoever the hell wanted to, did whatever the hell they wanted to do, more than once, now."

Dean sunk his head into his hands, he didn't know how much more he could handle. He had been talking for a while, bringing up emotions he held tight, but now, anger had started to rise and he was afraid he wouldn't be able to say much more without the need to act out his emotions. He had tried to calm himself but was failing miserably at it.

"The night I left and the house Beth was at?"

"Yeah, and sometimes, just for the hell of it, Dad, or some other damn hunter he had around, would tie my hands, behind my back, so I didn't have a choice to use them, the only thing I had to use, to satisfy their needs, was my mouth."

Dean's face started turning red with the rise in his blood pressure, the anger that was starting to boil. He pushed to keep the rising bile down, knowing he needed to keep what fluids he's drunk in his stomach.

"Those sons of bitches!" Dean's anger started to show, but Sam didn't flinch. He knew he couldn't no matter how much anger he was feeling himself, no matter how many tears he wanted to shed, he had to be a stone. He couldn't flinch or show any of his own emotions or Dean would shut down.

"I just don't understand it, Sam. I don't! I mean, I've tried so hard in my life not to ask 'why', but damn it! Why ME? Why the hell did I have to have so much put on me? Why does the world have to rest on my shoulders? Didn't anyone even notice, I was just a damn kid! Yeah, I know, I had to grow up fast. I had to take care of you. I had to protect you. But, didn't Dad, or anyone else realize I had my hands full with that? I mean, seriously, who the hell in their right mind could possibly think a little kid could handle as much as I was given to handle?"

Dean took a deep breath to calm his anger. "Sam, I wouldn't change what I did for you, I need you to understand that. I don't care how old, or young, I was. I wouldn't ever change taking care of you. I would have protected you, even if Dad didn't tell me to. Please tell me you understand that." Dean looked at Sam with pleading eyes.

"Yeah, I understand."

"Good, it's just all the other crap, you know? I mean, the times I had to do things, in pain, in fear, after being beaten or worse, I could have done them without a problem if it wasn't for all the injuries that were placed on me. I could have been happier, hell, you could have been happier. I would have made sure of that, if I didn't feel like I had to look over my shoulder all the time. If I didn't have such a strong fear filling every inch of my being, fear of my, our, own father. I could have been happy."

Dean dropped his head in his hands as he could no longer hold the tears back. "I'm just so tired, Sam, I'm tired of this fight that I've been fighting my entire life. I'm tired of these feelings I've been carrying around. I'm tired of feeling so damn scared. I try, man, I try hard not to let it get to me. I try to joke it off, you know that, I try to push the shit away, but in the end, no matter what, it always wins. And, when it does, I feel like it leaves me a little more damaged, a little weaker." Dean just shook his head, his face buried in his hands

Sam cleared the lump from his throat. "Dean, it doesn't make you weak to have feelings, even if they aren't happy feelings. And, yeah, I know you try your hardest to push them away. You try to make a joke out of everything, and that's one thing I admire about you. Because, I know it works, for the time you need it, it works. The thing is, you've gotta learn to release it all at some point."

Sam took Dean's face in his hand, making him look into his eyes. "You may be able to make light of a situation to keep yourself calm in the face of danger, but when it's all over, when you're no longer in danger, you need to let that fear out. You need to express what you couldn't. I don't have that luxury, you know that as well as I do. When I'm scared, it shows. I've learned over the years, but I still can't push away the feelings, even when I am in danger, it shows."

Dean pulled his face away, no longer able to look at his brother. "But, I also don't have all the pinned-up emotions you do either. Because I don't keep them, I express them, and let them go. I'm not saying you're doing anything wrong, god knows you're not! I don't think I would have half the strength you have if I had to go through what you did. Hell, I'd probably be dead by now, truth be told. I'm not as strong as you, physically or mentally."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but Sam quickly continued what he was saying before Dean could make a sound. "And that's okay. I know it's true and I'm okay with it because that's what makes us such a great team. What you're the strongest in, I'm not, but, what I'm the strongest in, you're not. So, it works, you know?" Sam wasn't sure why he had gone off of the subject. He was trying to get his brother to release his emotions and instead, he ended up releasing some of his as well.

Dean just nodded his head. He knew what his brother was saying was true. "So, you don't think I'm weak because I can't be more like you? I don't get all girly emotional?"

Sam chuckled. "No! You're not weak, if anything you're the strongest person I know because of that. I mean, damn, look at everything you've had to face in your life, everything you've had to overcome. And, despite the lack of emotional expressions, you do it, man, you overcome and you keep on pushing through. You keep on fighting. But, there comes a time in everyone's life when they have to just let go, stop holding on so tightly."

"Yeah, well, that's easier said than done."

"I know, you have to find a safe place to release yourself. You have to have someone you can trust. But, Dean, even heroes fall down and need someone to help them back up. It doesn't make them weak or any less of a hero. If anything, it makes them stronger, because they know if they ever need anything, or anyone, if they ever face something they feel like is too big, then they know they have someone who will be there. Someone who will have their back and face the problem, together. Someone they can fall on and know they will catch them before they hit the ground. And, that's why you have me."

Sam finished the last part with a smile. Dean smiled back.

"Yeah, guess so, but, I ain't no hero." With that last part being said, Dean stood, sat the empty Gatorade bottle on the table and headed to the bathroom.

"You're my hero." Sam stated while Dean walked away from him.


	8. Chapter 8

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 8

Dean had returned to the room, he laid on bed instead of sitting back in the chair. Exhaustion had started setting in. Sam rose from his seat, grabbing a candy bar and another drink off the table, and sat on the bed across from Dean.

"Here. You need to put something on your stomach."

Dean looked up and took the items from his brother, not interested in them at the moment. He had curled himself into a ball on the bed.

"My stomach hurts right now."

He had to admit he was starting to feel better, and relieved his kidneys were working on their own, but he knew they weren't 100% yet, and he probably should go for his dialysis appointment, but he was just too damn tired and didn't want to put himself through that again. Of course, him complaining about his stomach put Sam into full motherly mode.

"Dean, you really should do your dialysis." He knew the answer before Dean even shook his head, but he had to at least mention it.

"Why don't you sleep?" Sam continued, "You'll probably feel better when you wake."

"No." Dean mumbled.

"Why not?"

"The dreams…" That was all Dean could manage to say before his voice felt like it got stuck in his throat, the only thing that seemed to stop the tears from coming out with the words.

"Dean, it'll be okay. I'll be right here, we'll do what we always do, I'll wake you at the first sign of a nightmare."

Dean just shook his head. "I'm so tired, Sam. I just want all of this to be over. I want the nightmares to stop. I didn't even want to live through the shit the first time, what in the world makes my brain think I want to relive it, again?"

"Dean, usually that's your body's way of telling you that you need to deal with it. Once you do that, it'll stop. I'm sure the fact that you've been injured and exhausted for so long doesn't help, but still, that's usually what it means when you have continuous nightmares like this. We've both had this happen before, so you know I'm right."

Dean knew his brother was right, but the thought of 'dealing with it' scared him more than the dreams themselves.

"Sam." Dean huffed out with a breath of pure exhaustion as he raised himself to a seated position, his back supported by the wall behind him. "I don't know. I mean I have so much that's been locked away. I've been talking to you about it, a lot. I mean, I've admitted things to you that I never thought anyone would know about. What's it been, a year now? Since all of this has been coming to the surface. Sure, we've had our moments in there, times we weren't together, but, it's like I keep talking to you and nothing gets better. Nothing changes. And I'm so tired of it. I don't know what else to say."

Dean's voice had turned from exhaustion to pleading. "What am I supposed to say? Tell me Sam, what is it I need to do to make this stop?"

Sam knew Dean was desperate, but he also knew he was exhausted. He didn't have the answers he was looking for. He didn't know how to make his brother's nightmares stop. After taking a moment to think he came up with an idea. He wasn't sure how much his brother would like it, but it was at least something new to try.

"Hey, Dean, how about we try something different?"

"Okay, what?"

"You're exhausted, we both know that. You need to keep yourself as rested as you can, but the nightmares interfere with that, right?"

Dean nodded his head.

"So, how about, you lay down and go to sleep. Like we discussed before, sometimes it takes your own mind in your own dreams to straighten things out, but sometimes not, so if your dreams start getting bad, I'll wake you up. But, if I have to wake you, then you have to talk to me. You have to talk about the dream you just had, no matter if it makes sense or not, because like I said, sometimes laying it all out helps you put the pieces together when you can look at them differently. So what do you say? You wanna try that?"

Dean thought for a moment. "Okay, whatever. I'm just so tired, Sam, but the thought of sleeping, the thought of the nightmares that I know is going to plague me, it scares the hell out of me."

"Then, don't let it. Look at it like it's a good thing. When the nightmares come, it's going to give you a chance to talk through them and work them out so they don't come back, or at least not as strong. Don't think of them as something to fear, think of them as a way to get yourself better."

Dean nodded his head, his eyes already heavy, he pushed himself back down to a laying position. "Okay, I'll try it, right now, I'll try anything." He mumbled, too tired to speak clearly

"Dean, how's your stomach? Is it feeling better?" Sam checked before Dean had fallen asleep.

"Yeah, it's a little better, it'll be fine." Dean answered as he closed his eyes. "Sam, you promise you'll be right here?" Dean sounded like a child again. He sounded as defeated as he felt.

Sam stood from where he was seated and made his way to the other side of Dean's bed. He laid down beside his big brother like they used to do when they were younger. Right now, Dean needed the same reassurance that Sam needed when he had nightmares as a child. Lying beside his brother he put a reassuring hand on Dean's chest when he rolled onto his back.

"I'm right here, I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

Dean placed his hand over Sam's. "You need some sleep too."

Sam gave a half smile. "Okay, I won't deny that, I'm pretty worn out myself, but even if I do fall asleep, I'll be right here. Right beside you, I'll feel everything and be able to wake you up. I won't let anything happen to you. It's going to be okay, together, we got this! Just like we always have."

Sam's reassuring words comforted Dean as he fell into the darkness of sleep. Sam was quick to follow. He really was tired himself, and knew it would take a little while before Dean's dreams got too bad, so this was his chance to catch a little shut eye himself. He didn't move his hand off his brother. He wanted to be sure he had every possible way of feeling his nightmares begin.

"DEAN, DEAN WAKE UP!"

Sam had been trying to wake his brother for a couple minutes with no success. His dreams were bad, Dean had woken Sam by screaming and crying out in his sleep. 'NOOOO! Please, no, stop'. Sam was shaking Dean and calling his name.

It didn't take Dean long to respond once he was awake. He was covered in beaded sweat. His body was shaking uncontrollably. He felt cold and hot at the same time. That same fear, piercing every ounce of his being. He jumped as he flew his eyes open, slamming his back against the wall as he quickly pushed himself to a seated position, his knees pulled to his chest, his trembling hands wrapped around his legs. He had a lost, wild look in his eyes as he quickly glanced all around the room, looking for whoever was in his dream.

"Dean."

Sam said in a low, calming voice as he placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Dean jumped a little at the touch but didn't pull away from his brother.

"Dean, it's okay, it's Sam, I'm right here, it's okay, no one is going to hurt you. It's just you and me."

Sam knew he had to get his brother to calm down before he was able to talk to him. Dean had turned his head and stared into his brother's eyes for a moment. Sam watched as his eyes became clearer, the fogginess was leaving. Dean's breathing returning to normal, the shaking had turned to trembles.

"We gotta talk about it." Sam reminded Dean.

Dean shook his head, but Sam wasn't going to let it go that easily.

"You promised, remember?" Sam gave Dean a moment longer before continuing. "What was your dream about?"

"I… I don't wanna…. I can't, Sam."

"Dean, we gotta try this, it'll help, I know it will, even if it doesn't make sense you gotta talk to me. What was it about?"

Dean rubbed a hand down his face to dry the sweat and tears. "I… I just remember… I remember those damn ropes, around my wrists. I was… I was tied to the bed, the one at that house we found Beth at. I had…my dream started the same way the night started. I was at the bar, drinking, feeling good, and doing my usual flirting. The 2 girls that were hanging all over me, they invited me to their house, said they would make my night one I'd never forget."

Dean let out a slight chuckle, realizing they were right, he'd never forget it. "It started out like any other night, the girls and I had some fun, they were wild!"

Dean smiled thinking of how much fun they really were. "Anyhow, I know you don't wanna hear the details on that" he glanced at his brother, who really, at this point, didn't care if Dean told him the details of his sexual experiences with the women or not.

"Dude, we were really getting into it, and then someone came home. They didn't react to it, but I mentioned it, asking if they had a roommate or something, they just told me yes and continued. Then they said something about maybe 'they' would join us. I was game, I mean the more the merrier, right? I didn't know. Sam, I promise I didn't."

Dean seemed to have an overwhelming need to make sure his brother believed that he didn't want it. "When a man walked in, I didn't even realize it at first. I was on top of one of the girls, doing my thing, and the next thing I know I had a strong hand on the back of my neck, she had quickly moved her way out from under me, and he slammed my face into the mattress, holding his grip on my neck."

His hands were shaking, his voice trembling. "I tried to fight him off, but didn't get much of a chance before I felt another strong grip on each of my arms. They… they pulled my arms over my head, I wasn't laying that close to the bed posts. It felt like they were going to rip my arms off at the shoulders."

The shaking of the hands moved to other muscles. The trembling of his voice rattled his chest. "I couldn't move my body closer to them. I had a death grip on my damn neck, pressing my face into the bed, someone else was sitting on the bend of my back, keeping me from being able to fight. I was never so thankful when they finally got my hands tied. I mean, I hated it, don't get me wrong, but everyone let go of me, and I was able to adjust my body so my arms didn't feel like they were being ripped off. I was going to ask them what the hell was going on, but one of them shoved a gag in my mouth so I couldn't say anything."

Dean paused, drying his face again. "All of that was normal, that's really the way it happened. I didn't expect any of it, Sam, you gotta believe me, I didn't" Dean's voice was pleading again.

"I do." Sam whispered.

Dean nodded his head. "That's where… that's… my dream got weird after that." Dean paused again to slow his breathing that had become rapid, and take a couple, extra-long blinks.

"It's okay." Sam reassured him.

With a nod, Dean continued. "The thing is, at first, it continued as a normal memory. I could hear them all laughing, it sounded like way more people than I wanted to admit. They, um… they tied a blind fold around my eyes. They made a comment about how much more fun it would be."

Dean's trembles turned back into full body shakes. "I couldn't talk, I couldn't see. The only thing I could do is hear. I couldn't even fight. I… I was helpless. That damn fear, it filled me. I was tied, with ropes around my wrists, again. Tied to a bed, again. For someone else's damn pleasure!"

Dean had to stop again, to calm the anger that started to rise, then continued, "The pain, I knew it was going to be bad, I had forgotten how bad! I can't even explain it. The feeling, like your body is being torn from the inside out, never ending, no matter how bad I wanted it to stop, it didn't. But… then… my mind, my dream, it went from one event to another."

The tears were falling freely. "I went back to the night you left, when I was tied to the bed, the same damn shit! The same never-ending pain, the same fear. Then, my mind went to the night we reentered the home and got caught. I'm not sure if that night was worse or better, honestly. In a way, it didn't hurt as bad, but I was already sore as hell from the last time so, well that just intensified it all. But, in my dream, unlike real life, it was like all 3 times were happening at the same time, and the pain never left me. The fear never left."

He had curled in on himself, his knees to his chest, his shaking arms wrapped tightly around them. "They just built on top of one another, making it worse and worse. I couldn't take any more, Sam, I couldn't. but, it wouldn't stop, it just went from one to another then back again. I don't know if that makes any sense or not, but that's the way it was, in my dream."

Dean paused again, turning to look at his brother. "Sam, I didn't enjoy it, any of it, I didn't. But… I don't know why, I guess my own body failed me… it didn't connect to my brain or something… I mean all 3 times… my body failed me. Both, in real life and in my dream, more than once too. I remember the laughter each time. Joking around, about how much I enjoyed it for… for my body to do what it did." Dean had to stop. He put his head in his hands and let the tears flow.

Sam cleared his throat, trying his hardest not to let his tears match Dean's. A couple managed to fall, but Sam knew he had to stay strong for his brother.

"Dean… it's natural. That happens a lot more than you may realize. It has nothing to do with rather someone enjoyed something or not. It's a physical feeling and once it's activated your body just reacts. That's one of the things that people who… who were… raped… that's the one thing they regret, the one thing they feel the guiltiest about, but it's okay."

For some reason Sam hated using that word. He didn't want to see his brother as a rape victim, even though that's exactly what he was. "There's certain points in everyone's body that once they are stimulated, you're just going to have an orgasm, rather you want to or not."

Sam hated talking about this. He was pissed at everyone who had hurt his brother, making him feel guilty about what they had done to him. He pushed down the bile that threatened to rise in his throat. "I'm sorry, I know I've asked you, out of anger, if you enjoyed it or not. Of course, now I feel like a complete ass for asking you that, but, having your body react to what's happening to it, has nothing to do with enjoyment."

Dean wasn't so sure about what his brother had said, but he was sure about the fact he did not, in any way, enjoy any of what was forced onto him.

"It's just… I was told that I was enjoying it, that I liked it."

"By who? The same people who were hurting you? The men who raped you?"

Dean hated that word as much as Sam did, but he knew his brother was right. The same people who hurt him taunted him, laughed at him, made him believe he enjoyed what they had done to him.

"Sam, at that house… when they got me going, when I was… I don't know, I was reacting to whatever, I wasn't soft, that's for sure. One of the guys, he got under me and they…. They… put me, inside of him. They used their bodies to thrush me inside of him, until, until I finished. I…"

Dean had to pause for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "I thought, that meant I… I couldn't tell you that. I didn't want to tell you that anything happened, I mean if I… you know… inside of someone else, inside of a man, and, well other times through the night too… I figured that I, somehow, enjoyed it. That, maybe, subconsciously or something, I wanted it?"

He wasn't sure where all the stuttering had come from during his rambling. "I didn't know, that's what I was told before. That's what I've always been told about everything. That I liked it, I wanted more, that I was a freak. My mind was so screwed up. I know I couldn't think straight. I know I really just wanted it all to end, I wanted to be able to scream, to tell them to stop. I wanted to be able to see what they were doing."

He had a mixture of nervous and angry energy pulsing through him. "I didn't know what was happening… what they were going to do…not… not until… until I felt someone's touch. But the thing is, I um… I think it was more than just… I don't know if they used objects… or maybe, I don't know, other parts of their bodies?" Dean was starting to have a hard time talking about this. He was trying, but he was stuttering all over his words.

"Like fingers? Fists?" Sam tried to clarify what Dean was saying.

Dean nodded his head. "Yeah, not… not just then either… the first time… in that motel, too. I wasn't blindfolded, but the way my body was bent, I couldn't see anything behind me, I was younger then, my head was fuzzy, I didn't know what was going on, I mean, it was my first experience with, well, stuff like that, you know, being forced."

His anger started building. "I just don't get it Sam! I don't understand why the hell people have to be the way they are! Why? Why do they have such a strong need to hurt other people? Especially in such an unforgiving, unforgetting way?" Dean had looked over at his brother with eyes that pleaded him for an answer.

"I don't know, I don't understand it either, Dean."

"Sam." Dean said in a low voice

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I could handle it again. I think if I had to, I wouldn't make it out, not sane anyhow. It's like, each time, it took a piece of me. A piece I will never get back, it's lost forever. Filled with this darkness, this empty hole that can only be filled with pain and fear."

Dean had hung his head, not raising his voice any louder than a near whisper, just barely loud enough for Sam to hear. His body still trembling, tears still dripping from his eyes. Sam was unable to hold back his tears. He let them silently fall as Dean confessed his brokenness.

"I… I think… everything… the beatings from Dad, the punishments, the words that have been thrown at me. I think they all took a little piece of me. Not as big as those nights did, but still, they took something, some moments more than others. And so… now, I'm just full of all these holes, like swiss cheese! But, what's not empty, is filled with so much pain, and so much fear. Fear that life is going to continue to repeat itself, it always does. I have this fear that one day, I'll find myself tortured again, in one way or another. I'm not talking about hunting, or monsters, or demons, I'm talking about human beings."

Dean stopped, he leaned over letting his head rest on his brother's shoulder. Sam raised a hand and placed it on top of Dean's head. He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't know how to fix his brother's brokenness, how to fill the holes he was talking about. But, he understood. He could understand how each negative thing in his life could take away a piece of him.

"But, it made you the person you are today." Sam said silently.

"What? A broken-down piece of nothingness?"

Dean's words stung Sam's heart. "No, my strong, don't take any bullshit, hard headed brother. It made you a fighter. Someone who doesn't give up easily. Someone who knows the pain life can leave and choses to help others, so they don't have to feel the same pain you do."

Dean pressed his head against his brother's shoulder, his way of giving him a hug without having to move his body. "Thanks."

Sam just smiled, a smile Dean couldn't see, but he knew it was there. "Any time."

"Hey, Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"That fear, the one I've been talking about."

"Yeah."

"It's more than just while things are crappy. You know that, right?"

"Yeah, Dean, I do."

Dean nodded his head. "I'm scared to go back to the bar, I've thought about it, and just the thought freezes me in my tracks. I don't want to flirt with someone, the way I usually do, and have it turn out the same way… I can't let myself get hurt like that anymore."

Sam was a little shocked at Dean's confession. He let out a little chuckle. "For now, maybe. But, don't worry, I'm sure, once we work through all this crap, you'll be back to your old annoying self."

Sam gave his shoulder a small shrug, his way of letting Dean know he was messing around with him, but he also believed what he said. "Nothing keeps my brother down forever." He added as he pressed his hand down on Dean's head and gave it a slight kiss.

"Dude! Chick flick over!" Dean tried to sound disgusted, but also didn't make much of an effort to move his head off his brother's shoulder.

Sam let out a slight chuckle. "Awwww you don't like my loves?"

"No"

Sam smiled, wide. "It's okay, I'll let you hate me for my girly emotions some other day, but right now, I think this moment, is exactly what we both need."

Dean still hadn't made any effort to move his head. Sam was right, he needed the physical reassurance that he wasn't alone, and that he was safe. Sam noticed, the longer his brother stayed in that position, the calmer he became. His trembling had almost completely stopped. His breathing was normal. His heartrate appeared to slow back down. He no longer showed the signs of pure fear. He was comfortable again.

"Dean, you're going to be okay. I've got you, and with me by your side, I'll make sure you make it through everything life throws at you, the same way you have done, and will continue to do, for me."

Sam leaned his head on top of his brother's, letting it rest there as exhaustion filled both brothers. They had both been through an emotional roller coaster with little sleep. Sam worked their way down to a laying position. He tried not to disturb the connection they had together, Dean, followed his actions. And, just like when they were little, the brothers wrapped themselves together, desiring the physical contact, the safety they found in each other.

Darkness mixed with the exhaustion they felt, brought them both to a dark, deep sleep. Sam woke when he felt Dean moving around as he woke up. Both of them separating from one another had realized they slept through the night. No nightmares, no sickness or fears. Both woke feeling rested and at peace. Dean got up and was once again thankful he was able to relieve himself in the bathroom. He even snacked on the food Sam had gotten the night before.

He still wasn't 100% so he didn't want to risk a full meal, he knew even though he was feeling better, he still needed to take it slow. Dean had taken a shower and put on clean clothes, he was feeling pretty good for a change. Sam had followed after him and got himself ready for the day as well. While Sam was standing at the sink brushing his teeth Dean figured it was a great opportunity to talk without his brother interrupting.

"Hey Sam, I just wanted to say thank you. I mean, I had my doubts, and it sure as hell wasn't easy, but damn, I feel pretty good today. So, yeah, thanks."

Sam just gave him a smile.

"Don't expect all that touchy feely girly stuff all the time." Dean added as he finished putting on his boots.

He took a deep breath and a long look around the room. This room had been his home, his walls of safety. They've heard more confessions and seen more nightmares than any walls should have to witness. Sam had sat across from Dean, he was thankful his brother was feeling better, and acting more like himself. He still felt weak but Sam had no doubt a little food would fix that right up.

"What do you say we leave all the crap here, in these walls, and head somewhere else?" Dean suggested.

Sam, remembering what he promised about everything staying here, completely agreed. Truth is, he didn't want to have to listen to the details Dean gave, again, once was more than enough for him. He stood and patted his big brother on the knee.

"Sounds good to me." he said as he started packing his belongings.

Dean followed his cue and packed his belongings too. Dean stopped in the doorway, taking another long look at what he was leaving behind.

"Dean." Sam said softly, "It's gone, man, it's all going to stay right here. You don't have to bring it with you. It's the beginning of a new day, leave it behind and make some new memories."

Dean nodded his head and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him, leaving all the weight he had carried around where it belonged.


	9. Chapter 9

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 9

Dean refused to let Sam drive. He insisted, it would help him feel better to be behind the wheel of his baby. Sam, reluctantly agreed. He was thankful that his brother was getting back to being himself.

The day had carried on, feeling somewhat normal. Dean played his usual music, sometimes too loud. The boys didn't talk much, they just enjoyed the peace they were feeling. They were content with feeling good about the day. Neither of them were sure where they were going, Dean just knew he needed to get away from where they were at.

They pulled into a small town, Alton, Illinois. It was a quiet little place. Baby needed some fuel. Dean pulled up to the pumps and gave his baby what she needed. He checked the fluids under the hood, he needed to feel some normalcy, but, if he had to admit it, he was feeling worn out and needed a break from the road. There was a little honky tonk bar that was near the gas station.

"Hey, Dean? How about we go grab a bite to eat." He pointed toward the nearby joint.

Dean's heart beat a skip. Sam felt stupid for suggesting that. He remembered what Dean had said about the fear of being hurt again, the fear of humans. But, he also agreed to leave all that behind. Dean nodded his head.

"Okay."

That was all he could manage to say. After taking care of Baby, he drove them to the grill and bar. He hesitated just a moment when he opened the door, Sam was behind him and gave him a slight nudge, pushing him through the threshold. They found a small table in the back corner to sit at.

The nice-looking waitress came over and gave them both menus and took their drink orders. Dean, without thinking, ordered his regular beer. He mentally slapped himself, but let it go, figured one beer couldn't hurt anything. Sam ordered the same.

When the waitress returned with their drinks, the boys ordered their meals. Dean ignored her, couldn't bring himself to make eye contact with the waitress. Sam over compensated for him, and was extra nice to her. He wasn't going to push his brother. He knew just being here was a big step for him. It was more than he's been able to do for days.

Dean drunk his beer faster than he planned to. Sam ordered him another one when he realized Dean's hands were trembling.

"Dean?" Sam spoke quiet and leaned over the table, making himself closer to Dean so he could hear him. "You okay?"

Dean took a moment then nodded his head yes.

"We'll just order this stuff to go if you want to, I'll tell the waitress I'm not feeling well or something." Sam suggested.

"No, I'm fine."

Dean picked up the daily newspaper that was sitting nearby and started glazing through it. Not looking for anything particular, he was just trying to find something to fill his mind. He stopped when he came across an article that caught his attention.

"Hey Sammy, what do you say we stay here for a night or two?" Dean asked as he handed his brother the article he had just read.

 _Two more teens are missing after they ventured into the Enos Sanitarium. The closed down Sanitarium is known by the locals for its hauntings. It's a common attraction for locals and tourists alike. Melissa Bark and Thomas Smith were reported missing when they did not return home yesterday morning._

 _They reportedly told their friends they were going to sneak into the Sanitarium and stay the night there. That was the last time they were seen. Just a week ago 3 more teenagers, who were visiting the area, snuck into the Sanitarium during the night, and have not been seen since._

 _The local board is discussing the possibility of tearing down the old building in an attempt to keep the teenagers safe. There have been a growing number of missing teens attached to their visits to the Sanitarium. There have only been reports of 4 adults missing after their visit, these men and women were reported to have announced they were going to visit the place after it closed, in an attempt to capture ghosts on their cameras._

Sam looked up at Dean, a spark in his eye, Dean's eyes matched. It had been too long since they had been on a hunt, and this seemed like a simple salt and burn. The place was already known for its ghosts, they just needed to figure out which one became vengeful and take care of it.

Without saying a word, they both agreed they needed this hunt. The waitress brought their food, and another beer for each. Sam took the opportunity to ask her about the article and the reports of missing people. She explained to them how she thought people were stupid for trying to go there when they weren't supposed to.

No one who went during regular business hours ended up missing. She didn't understand what all the hype was about anyhow. It was just an old closed down building with a crappy past that everyone thought made it a special historical building.

Sam, showing genuine interest, continued to ask the waitress questions, she told him she was getting off in 10 minutes and would come back to talk to him then. When she returned she took a seat between Sam and Dean. She began telling them about the malpractice that eventually got the sanitarium closed down.

It was originally opened for TB patients, like most sanitariums. There were thousands of people who were admitted but never discharged. There were several ditches they dug surrounding the place, when the patients would die they threw the body into the ditch, once the ditch was full, they would fill it back in with dirt, burying the bodies, and dig another ditch.

No one really knows how many people died there, or how many people are buried there. She continued to explain to them that once someone was admitted, the family would never see them again. No one visited, no one cared, they knew when their loved ones were sent to the sanitarium they were good as dead. But, some of the patients were women, single mothers, or even pregnant at the time they were admitted.

The children, and the newborns who were born there, didn't get to leave. They didn't leave the children with other family when the mom was admitted. She said there was an entire floor that was just for the little ones, some of them sick, some of them not. But, mostly everyone in the building ended up getting sick due to exposure.

The children were kept like animals, she explained. And the doctors did a lot of medical testing on them, making some of them handicap, or mentally deranged. She explained how some of the children, as babies, were subject to horrific torture to their bodies, leaving them twisted like a pretzel as they grew older, it was for the purpose of studying the works of the body and muscles she explained, or at least that's what the doctors claimed.

She went on to tell them that once TB became less and less, the sanitarium became a place for the mentally ill. She explained that you didn't have to be mentally ill to be admitted. That a family member could admit anyone they wanted to. By the time the 'interview' was over they were always able to find something that made them seem crazy.

They did things like shock therapy, or worse, on them. Both the sane and insane. They still had a floor for children, some of them moved to the adult floor, the ones who had survived the TB outbreak, they were never released, they were just eventually moved to the floors with the mentally ill once they were old enough.

She explained how all it took was a child who was strong willed, disobedient in anyway, and their parents could have them admitted. Once admitted, much like the TB outbreak, they were never discharged. They were subjected to endless torture. She explained how there were several suicides there, and what she considered murders, all though the officials said the deaths were from natural causes. She explained how she knew of at least one more ditch that was dug and buried after the TB outbreak, it was full of the people who were deemed mentally incapable of living in society.

She laughed when she said that, truly, no one would be considered 'sane' these days, that everyone was a little 'off their rocker' in one way or another. Sam agreed. Dean had become interested enough that he had looked up from his lap and practically held eye contact with her the entire time.

"How do you know all of this?" Dean eventually asked.

The waitress blushed a little, ringing her fingers together. "Because, I've lived here my whole life, my father, he had my mother committed, said she was 'sick in the head'. I don't know, I think, looking back, she had a form a depression. But, honestly, don't we all at one time or another?"

She gave a slight smile to both of them and continued. "The thing is, I didn't go with my mom. I stayed with my grandparents, which was practically unheard of. They thought that if the mother was mental then the kids would be too." She paused.

"So, why didn't you go with her?" Sam asked.

"Because, my dad… my dad was one of the doctors there. He knew how bad it was. He, honestly, he fell in love with another woman, so he didn't care about my mother. That was his way of getting her out of the way. But, he didn't want me subjected to the torture he knew I would be put through. He argued that since I was his child, and he was so smart and educated, that I took after him, and wasn't mentally insane. No one even questioned him." She said with a sigh.

"How old were you?" Dean asked.

"When my mom got taken away?" she asked to clarify what Dean had asked.

Dean nodded.

"I was four." she answered.

Dean's eyes filled with a sadness. "I was four when I lost my mother too." he replied. "Sam…" he said, pointing at his brother, "was just a baby so he doesn't remember her being killed."

Suddenly it seemed Dean and the waitress had a connection.

"My mother," she started, "had just had my little brother. I think maybe she was going through some post-partum crap. He was 5 months old, he doesn't remember her either. Dad, he tried to have him sent with her, but couldn't justify how one of his children would be mentally fine while the other's not. And I begged him to leave him with me. I told him I'd take care of him, that he didn't need to worry about him. I'm shocked, to be honest, but he agreed. He let me keep him."

She had basically, just admitted to the same life Dean was forced into. Their mothers gone, left to raise their little brothers.

"Where's your dad now?" Sam asked.

Breaking eye contact with Dean, and the connection they had found, she turned to Sam. "I don't know." Her eyebrows raised, saying she really didn't care. "I've heard different stories. Some say he died in the sanitarium, during some patient riot or something like that, killed by one of his patients. Some say he just disappeared. Honestly, he wasn't the nicest guy in the world, and I'm glad he's gone, no matter where he is, he isn't in my life anymore."

Dean nodded his head, feeling the anger and hurt that was radiating off of her.

"And your brother?" Dean asked.

She turned and locked eyes back with Dean. "He's more like my mother. He's doing fine, he's got me, and I would never let anything happen to him, ever. He lives with me. He's my whole life. Our dad, the times he came around, he would always want to hit on him, beat him. He hated him! I don't know why, maybe because he looks so much like our mom? But, I put a stop to that really quick, of course, that doesn't mean my dad's anger lessened, it just means it was focused elsewhere."

Dean nodded his head again, "yeah" was all he could get out.

She understood from that one word that her and Dean had even more of a connection than they realized, so, she continued, not breaking eye contact with him. "He was lonely, after getting rid of Mom. The other woman, I don't know what ever happened to her. But, Dad decided when I was 12 that I was old enough to be 'his'. He didn't need another woman, he had me, and I was able to take care of all his needs. Which, I did, without a word of complaint, as long as he left my brother alone."

She saw the ache in Dean's eyes. The look that said he'd been there, done that. The deepness that opened up his soul. She saw into the older brother that would do anything, literally anything, to protect his little brother. The brokenness inside that he couldn't hide in the refection of his dark green eyes. He couldn't speak, just slowly nodded his head, trying to fight back the watery tears that threatened to fill his eyes.

Sam shifted in his seat, a little uncomfortable. He wasn't sure what to do, or say, at that moment. He was feeling their connection, the understanding they had with each other. After a moment, Sam cleared his throat, breaking the silence at the table. They both blinked and turned their attention to Sam, who looked uncomfortable sitting there.

Dean just gave a half smile at his brother and shook his head at his uncomfortableness.

"So," Sam asked, "What's your brother's name?" He was stuttering just a little, sure that only Dean could hear the nervousness in his tone.

"Andrew." she answered.

Sam looked at her name tag, "Angel and Andrew, cute." he said with a slight smile, trying to lighten the mood.

She smiled back. "So," Angel started, "You boys aren't from around here, I'm guessing, and I'm also figuring you're gonna be looking for a motel to stay the night at?"

She glanced between the two of them as they both nodded their heads with a "yes ma'am."

"Look," she started again, "I don't usually do this. Actually, I don't ever do this! But, I don't know, something about you two," she looked back at Dean, locking eyes again, but for only a moment this time, "Andrew and I have a spare bedroom, and a couch, if you want to hear more history about that old run-down building."

Sam was shocked, she was offering them, complete strangers, a place to stay at her house. He knew they needed as much information as possible if they were going to try to rid the place of the vengeful spirit, or spirits. He was equally as shocked when Dean didn't even hesitate with his answer.

"Yes" Dean said, without even thinking.

He sounded a little too eager, tried to add to it without making himself sound like a creep but failed miserably, stuttering over his further explanation as to why he would want to stay with her. But, honestly, he couldn't explain why. He had felt this deep connection and didn't want to lose it, didn't want to leave her.

Not because he wanted to be around a woman, but because he wanted to be around the deep feeling of someone who understood. Someone who connected with him on so many personal levels. Something his brother could never do, something he would never want his brother to do. If he did, that would mean he would have to feel the pain he felt, and he never wanted that for him.

He had this sickening feeling that Angel felt the same way about Dean, and Andrew. They quickly paid their bill. Angel asked if it would be okay if she rode with them, she would show them the way. She didn't own a car, she walked to work and back every day. She only lived 2 miles away, she said. As if 2 miles wasn't a long walk. But, she did it for her brother. She insisted he wasn't able to work, that she feared their dad did something to him, messed him up mentally, maybe damage from the beatings when he was little, or maybe he did testing on him without her knowing.

She wasn't entirely sure, but she apologized for his weirdness before they ever got to her house. Dean and Sam both chuckled at her apology, assuring her it would be okay, they were used to weird.

When they approached the home, it was off a dirt road, the only house on the road. It sat at the very end, surrounded by open fields and wooded areas. It was an old, run-down house. The siding on the outside was peeling off, a few shingles on the roof were missing, covered by pieces of blue tarp to keep the rain out. The steps going into the house was creaky and felt weak. The porch that outstretched the front of the home was equally as weak, a few boards were missing off to the side of it, one looked like something had fallen through it.

There were 2 old wicker rocking chairs sitting on the end where the boards were missing. They were barely holding together, the pads on the seats were weathered and torn, the chairs, no longer white, the paint had faded off leaving them more of a brown, dirty color.

The front door, seemed to get stuck when she tried to open it, she laughed about how this place was falling apart. She told them it was her grandparents' old house. When they walked inside, it was like time had stood still. Everything inside the home appeared to have belonged to her grandparents as well.

They walked into the living room, the carpet was old, it was an orange shag carpet that had been so worn it was flat, no longer the fluffy shag it once was. The curtains covering the windows, they were white with big orange and yellow flowers on them, behind them, black garbage bags covering the windows. Dean and Sam figured there wasn't much insulation in the home, especially the windows, thus the reason for them being covered with plastic. It gave the home an earie dark feeling.

There was an old brick fireplace, the only source of heat, the fire was already lit, keeping the home warm against the coolness of the outdoors. The couch and chair didn't look very comfortable. They were a brown color, with some type of western horse theme on the cushions and wooded arms and legs. The coffee table in front of them was a dark wood that matched the arms of the furniture, it had big wagon wheels carved out of wood on the ends of it for legs.

There was a small table that sat between the couch and chair that matched the wagon wheel coffee table. On the small table was a brown and orange lamp that was some type of glass made into the shape of a horse. Above the fireplace were pictures. Family pictures. Dean took a moment to look at them, not needing to even ask who they were, he just seemed to know.

One picture was of Angel, about four years old, and Andrew, maybe a couple months old, with their mom and dad, all smiling and appeared happy. One picture was of Angel and Andrew when they were around 10-14 years old, he could see the sadness in Angel's eyes, but Andrew appeared to have a genuine smile that lit up his face.

There was one of the kids with their grandparents. The grandfather didn't seem like he was a very happy man, but grandma appeared to have a heart of gold. She looked like she was the loving, nurturing type, the kind that baked homemade cookies when friends came over. He ran his finger down the mantle in front of the pictures, leaving a line in the thick dust.

On the wall were pictures of western horse scenes. The walls, were a brown panel, making it appear even gloomier. He made his way into the kitchen where Angel and Sam had walked into. Angel was giving Sam the rundown of the home, explaining where everything was at and insisting, even though they didn't have much, for them to make themselves at home.

The kitchen was brighter, not as warm feeling, but the walls were covered in white wallpaper. It wasn't a bright white, it was old, starting to dull and turn brown. There were little red roosters all over the wallpaper. It matched everything else in the room.

The table was one of those old metal tables, it was also red and white, the chairs were a silver color, matching the legs to the table, with red leather cushions. The counter tops were white as well as the old farmhouse sink. The curtains covering the window, that was also covered with an old garbage bag, were red and white stripped, the white on those were turning brown as well, from age and dirt that has collected on them.

The stove was an antique stove. Dean didn't think anyone used those anymore. The flooring was a plaid linoleum, of course, it was red and white as well. There was a back door, painted white, with matching red and white striped curtains covering the window that was hidden behind the garbage bag.

Behind the back door was an old washer and dryer. He was sure that was added later, it hadn't been part of the original home, this house was too old for that. He followed them back through the living room and she showed them the small bathroom. Dean was sure, by the looks of it, this room was added later as well.

It was barely big enough for a pedestal sink that sat beside the toilet, leaving about a foot between the toilet and small shower. There seemed to be just enough empty space to stand and do what needed to be done, no one would ever spend more time than needed in this room, that's for sure.

She apologized, stating that was the only bathroom they had. Neither Sam or Dean cared, they had stayed in worse places, places with no bathrooms. There was a small closet beside the bathroom that held the towels and extra blankets. She apologized again that it's an old house and could get cold, especially at night.

She then made her way up the old staircase. Dean made note of the weak handrail that he was surprised was still standing as weak as it felt. Upstairs, there were 3 doors, all of them closed. The stairs came to an opened landing, not really a hallway, more like a big empty space surrounded by doors.

She opened the first door. "This is my room" she said as they walked in.

It looked a little more modern. There was a double sized bed, it had an old antique metal frame that was painted white. With a matching white dresser and a white makeup stand that had 3 mirrors on it, and a bench sitting in front. The top of it was cluttered with all her female things for her hair and makeup, stuff she needed for work, to put on the appearance that was needed for her job.

The floor was an old hard wood floor with a large area rug that covered most of it. Her closet door was open, her clothes hanging from the hangers with a pile of dirty clothes thrown on the floor beside it. Her bedding looked new, well, newer than the rest of the house.

It was a pink and red flowered comforter, with pink sheets and pillowcases. She had black and white pictures hanging on her walls. Pictures of places like Paris and Rome, and ones of cute little kids kissing and holding hands in front of the landscape in different countries. Her curtains were a pink lacey material. She had garbage bags covering her windows as well, but you could tell part of one was removed often, she probably opened it to check sounds or other things that came from outside.

They followed her to the next room. She announced this was the spare room where one, or both, of them could sleep. It was held in time, like the rest of the home. It had an old metal bedframe with an old wooden dresser that held a large mirror. On top of the dresser was an old box, some type of a man's jewelry box perhaps.

There was old bedding that was covering the bed that was made up. It didn't appear to have been slept in for quite some time. The room held an earie feeling. One window was boarded up and the other covered with the same black garbage bag. The curtains were straight, dark brown.

The walls the same dark paneling as downstairs. Not like Angel's room, her room was painted a bright, light pink, almost white color. The bedding was a blue and brown mixed together, just simple, nothing else in the room. Nothing that could be seen at first glance anyhow.

Dean turned and noticed Angel was standing at the door. She remained outside, hadn't walked into the room. Dean gave her a questioning look as he stepped back towards her.

"This… this was my dad's room, when he would come home."

There was a sadness in her tone as she spoke. Dean reached out and wrapped his arms around her, bringing her into his embrace for just a moment before releasing her. His way of saying he understood, without saying anything at all. They left that room, understanding she didn't want to be anywhere near it, and followed her to the last room.

"This is Andrew's room." she said as she knocked on the door.

"Andrew? Can I come in?" she asked as she cracked open the door. "I have some friends here, they're going to be staying the night with us, I wanted you to meet them." She continued to talk as she opened the door wider and stepped inside.

Andrew was sitting at a desk in his room. He was scribbling some drawing onto a piece of paper. His walls were painted a light blue color and were covered by pictures taped to them. Sam and Dean both assumed they were pictures that he drew, since that seemed to be what he was doing at that moment too.

His floor had a tan carpet on it. The only room that seemed to have carpet, and it didn't look worn out, it looked like it was pretty new. His windows were the only ones not covered with garbage bags. The windows in his room, looked like they had recently been replaced, they were thicker, insulated windows.

His bed was a newer wooden framed bed with bright blue and white bedding. The dresser and desk in his room seemed to be new as well. Dean could only guess that his sister had been working and using her money to fix her brother's room, to provide him with what he needed, to make sure he was comfortable and warm.

His room was the warmest room in the house. And looked like everything in it had been remodeled and was new. He noticed a small heater placed in the wall of his room, it ran from propane Dean guessed, since he was sure this old house wouldn't be able to handle the addition of an electric heater.

"Andrew." Angel spoke a little louder, getting her brother's attention. "Don't be rude. This is Dean and this is Sam. They are my friends, I wanted you to meet them."

Andrew nodded his head at them as to say hi. Then turned his chair back around to his desk.

"You have a lovely sister." Sam said.

"Don't even think about it!" Andrew replied in an angry tone.

Sam just chuckled, he knew the 'little brother tone' all too well. "Dude, I wasn't, trust me. She's nice and all, but I had no intent on anything inappropriate."

Andrew gave him a small glance.

"What'cha drawing there?" Sam questioned.

"Stuff." Andrew replied.

Sam looked around the room. "Are all these your drawings?"

"Yeah."

"They're good."

"Thanks."

"Ever do anything professional?"

Andrew turned and looked at Sam with a questioning look.

"You're good enough, that's all I'm saying." Sam reassured him.

By the look Andrew gave, he had never heard that before. Sam then noticed some pictures with monsters and what appeared to be supernatural beings.

"What are these?" Sam questioned.

Andrew dunked his head, Dean and Angel had walked out of the room long before their conversation started, leaving just Andrew and Sam alone. Andrew's face flushed, he wasn't used to having anyone talk to him, especially if they were treating him like a normal human being and not some freak. He didn't want to mess that up.

"Just some stuff." he replied, but kept his head hung low.

Sam took a longer look at one of them. "Have you seen these before?"

He asked, knowing that one of them looked a lot like a monster he had hunted before. Andrew was too embarrassed to answer, Sam sensed that, and decided to help him out.

"I think I've seen something that looks like that before." He said as he pointed to one of the pictures.

Andrew shot his head up to see what he pointed at and gave a look of disbelief.

"No, really, I have." Sam reassured as he sat on the edge of the bed in the room.

"Really?" Andrew asked, wanting to believe him, but afraid he was just playing some sick joke on him.

"Yes. I've seen a lot of things that are like that, my brother and I," Sam paused, not sure why he was saying what he was about to say, but felt the need to anyhow. "That's… well, that's kinda what we do, we hunt things like that." Sam pointed in the direction of the pictures.

"We kill them, make sure they don't hurt anyone else." He was maintaining eye contact, trying to make sure Andrew believed him and understood, he wasn't playing a joke on him.

"Is that why you're here?"

Andrew's question took Sam by surprise.

"Should we be here for something like that?"

Andrew answered by nodding his head, he had turned back around and continued his drawing as Sam heard Dean call his name. Sam stood, placed a hand on Andrew's shoulder.

"Is it okay if I come back in here and talk to you some more later?"

Sam wanted Andrew to understand he wasn't trying to push his presence on him but was there if he needed someone to talk to. Andrew nodded his head yes and Sam left the room to find his brother.


	10. Chapter 10

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 10

Sam came down the stairs to find Dean and Angel standing in the living room.

"Hey, Sammy, Angel and I are going to head into town, get some food for the house, you wanna come?" Dean asked.

Sam glanced back up the stairs, "No, I think I'm fine here."

"He's not being rude to you, is he?" Angel asked, shocked at Sam's answer.

"No, actually we were having a nice conversation."

"Conversation?" Angel repeated in shock. "Like one sided or like you were both talking to each other? He doesn't ever talk to anyone, not even me usually."

Sam gave her a smile. "As in we were both talking to each other, you know, a normal two-way conversation."

Angel was truly shocked now. "Hey, Sam, please, be careful with him. If he's talking to you, it means he trusts you, he's comfortable with you. He… he doesn't ever leave the house, when he does, well, the other people who know him, kids he went to school with, they just taunt him. They pick on him and even get physical. I wish I could get him to get out of the house, but…"

Her head dropped in sadness. "I understand, so I just let him be, I don't know what else to do. Everyone thinks he's a freak, but I know better, he's my brother and even if he was a freak I still love him and I would never want to see him hurt."

Sam nodded, understanding. He knew what it was like to feel like a freak. "I won't hurt him, I promise. In fact, I think I may have made a new friend."

Sam shifted his attention to his brother. "Hey, Dean, can I talk to you for a minute before you leave? In private?"

Sam and Dean walked into another room and quietly he hatched a plan with Dean that he agreed with.

The boys returned to the room where Angel waited.

"Everything okay?" she asked.

"Yeah." Dean reassured her. "I'll talk to you about it in the car." He said as he wrapped his arm into the crook of her elbow and walked her out the door.

Sam smiled as they left. He knew he needed to talk to Andrew more, find out about these monsters he's been drawing. Find out what he meant when he asked if that's why they were there. He walked back upstairs and knocked on Andrew's door.

"Andrew?"

"Yeah?" Came the quiet voice from within.

Sam cracked the door opened. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah." Andrew replied again.

Sam walked in the room and assumed his position on the edge of the bed.

"They went to town to get some groceries." Sam informed him, Andrew in turn gave him a confused look.

"It's not pay day." He stated, full of innocence. "we don't have money for food."

Sam's heart broke, he understood. "Well, maybe my brother is paying for it then?"

He kept his voice calm, knowing Dean had a couple different credit cards, one that he had just recently received. Andrew gave him a look, questioning why he would do that for them. Sam decided not to answer his puzzled look.

"My sister..." Andrew started, "She works hard, she uses all her money on me. She redone my room." He fanned his hand around the room. "Even put new carpet and windows in. She even bought me a heater. And she does what she can with food, it isn't much, but she eats at work so she says she doesn't need a lot of food at the house for herself."

Sam's heart sunk just a little more. He saw the look in Andrew's eyes, the look that said he thought his sister was lying about that.

"Yeah, my brother used to tell me similar stories growing up, sometimes, when money gets tight, he still does, but we don't have it as hard as we did when we were younger."

Andrew turned, facing Sam, fully interested in the knowledge of how much their lives were alike. Sam knew if he was going to get Andrew to open up to him he had to continue to be as honest as possible and give him way more personal information than he was comfortable with.

"I know, what it's like." Sam started speaking with a soft, almost sad, tone. "My mom died when my brother was 4 and I was just 6 months old. A… a monster killed her."

Sam couldn't believe he just said that, but to tell him it was a demon seemed like it might be a little scary to Andrew so he stuck with the words they had already spoke about.

"My brother raised me too. Our dad, he got obsessed with hunting down the monster that killed our mom. So, he was never really around. And now, well, now he's not around at all. He died, a couple years ago."

"Did the monster kill him?"

"Kinda, yeah, I guess in a way you could say that. But, even though he wasn't always the nicest person, because he drunk a lot, and that made him mean, but he still loved me and Dean. I know he did, and he…well, he let the monster kill him, in order to save Dean, actually. It's hard to explain but, one of them was going to die and Dad, he made the decision without discussing it with us."

"Did anyone ever find the monster? The one that killed your mom?"

"Yeah, Dean actually killed it, not long after Dad died. But, he did more than just hunt down that monster. In the process, he hunted down every monster he came across, and killed them, to protect innocent people. And, he taught Dean and me to do the same. It's like… a family business. Without the pay. But we help save people, help protect them. Because…"

Sam paused, making sure he wasn't talking too much, but Andrew seemed to have all his attention on the words Sam was speaking. "Most people, they don't know that monsters are real. They don't know what's really out there."

He pointed back toward the pictures on the wall as he said that. "But, you do. Don't you?"

Andrew just paused, looking up at the pictures he had drawn of the monsters. And shrugged his shoulders.

"It's okay." Sam reassured him. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to. I'm not pushing you, I just want you to know, that I understand, you and me, we aren't so different. And, if you ever want to talk I'll listen."

"You'll think I'm crazy. You'll think I'm a freak, just like everyone else."

Sam wasn't sure how much more his heart could break. "I won't. I swear, I won't think you're crazy, or a freak. Some people, they think I'm a freak too."

"Does your brother?"

"No, well, not really. He jokes that I am, but he jokes that we both are, because of the life we have, because only 'freaks' would hunt monsters like we do. But, he doesn't really think that about me anymore than he thinks it about himself. He's been the one person who has always accepted me for who I am. The one person who had always loved me, no matter what. The one person I've always been able to depend on, no matter how much I screw up, or how scared it get. He's always there."

"Angel too."

Sam nodded his head, he knew that. Her and Dean, they seemed so much alike he couldn't imagine her not being there for her little brother. "She told me to be careful with you." Sam chuckled. "Said she didn't want me to say or do anything that would hurt you."

Sam just shook his head slowly. "That sounds so much like Dean! If I'm in an emotional phase or something happened that bothered me, or… well pretty much anything, he would say the same thing if our places were swapped. Sometimes… sometimes, I mean I love him for it, I know he means well and he's just looking out for me, trying to protect me, but, sometimes, it gets old. It irritates me, even when I know it shouldn't."

Andrew nodded his head with a slight smile. "I know what you mean."

Sam smiled back.

"My sister, she's always trying to protect me, like a mother hen. And sometimes, I wish she would just stop, I get tired of it. But, I don't tell her that because I know she means good. She's just doing what she thinks is best for me. She's always been that way. Always thought she had to protect me. Even when we were little. She would do everything she could."

It seemed like once Andrew had started talking he couldn't stop. "Our dad, he wasn't so nice either. I don't know if he drunk or not, but he was mean. I remember… I remember sometimes, when he came home, he didn't come home too often, he was always too busy with work. He didn't want to be around me anyhow. He hated me. He told me that enough times. He told me he wished I was dead, that he would have sent me with mom if it wasn't for my whiney sister."

Andrew paused, making sure he was still safe to talk, he saw Sam's understanding eyes. He wasn't judging, he was just… listening, so he continued. "I remember times Dad would come home and hit on me. Grandma, she would try to tell him to stop but he would just hit her too, so she stopped trying. He would come home with pictures of our mom. I don't really remember her, but Angel does, and the pictures he showed her made her really upset."

Sam knew all too well what it was like only seeing your mom in pictures. "They were pictures of what she looked like then, pictures of the torture my sister said they put her through. But, then Dad stopped beating on me, but I'm not stupid, not like people think I am. I know why he stopped. I saw the bruises my sister tried to hide. Angel and I, we shared a room and when Dad was home. They would think I was asleep and he would make her go to his room with him."

Andrew's eyes saddened. "I would hear her cry and the bed squeak. Sometimes, there were even muffled screams. He hurt her, instead of me, and she let him, to protect me." Andrew's voice was a mixture of sadness and anger. Sam knew it was okay to let out his emotions but, he didn't want too much anger to come out at the beginning.

"Yeah, my dad, my brother, pretty much the same. In a way. He, Dean, he would get beat and punished for things I did. He would try to hide it, but as I got older, I noticed the bruises and cuts on his body. Dad had these, training exercises, that he would make us do, and Dean, he had to do them twice as much and twice as hard."

He hoped Dean didn't mind him telling Andrew these things. "I didn't know everything back then, but I've found a lot out just recently. He told my dad that he could do anything he wanted to him, that he wouldn't fight him on it, as long as he didn't touch me and didn't do anything in front of me, so I wouldn't know. And, for the most part Dad kept his end of the deal. He didn't beat on me and I was clueless until I was old enough to notice that things weren't right, but even then, I still didn't know everything."

Sam and Andrew seemed to settle into the conversation like old friends. "I didn't know that dad would make my big brother join him in bed while I was asleep. I didn't know how bad the beatings were. I didn't know that while I slept, my dad would make my brother run for hours, beating him if he stopped. I didn't realize Dad forced Dean not to eat, and when Dad wasn't around, if there wasn't enough money or food, Dean would make up some excuse as to why he wasn't hungry, but he always made sure I ate, even if he had gone days without food."

Sam couldn't believe what he was admitting to, but by the look in Andrew's eyes, it was exactly what he needed to hear. "But," Sam added, "we didn't have any grandparents, or any adults to take care of us, Dean had to do it alone. He had to figure out how to take care of a baby and everything on his own."

"I'm glad we had my grandma, at least Angel wasn't completely alone in raising me."

Sam just nodded, agreeing with that, wishing Dean had someone who could have helped him too.

"I think we turned out alright." Sam said. "We always had each other, and really, that's all that matters. Everything else is just… well it's just material stuff. But you can never replace your brother, or sister. Dean and I we never even had a home, we've lived out of the car or motel rooms or crappy ass apartments our whole lives. Never stayed at one place too long. But, no matter where we were, we were always 'home' because we had each other."

"I wish we could have moved around like that, not stayed in one place very long."

"Why's that?"

"Because, then maybe, people wouldn't think I was such a freak."

"Andrew, why do people think you're a freak?"

Andrew dropped his head again. "I can't say."

"Hey, it's okay, I promise, I won't think you're a freak, besides I'm one too, remember?"

Andrew gave a slight smile. "I see things, in my dreams I guess. Angel says sometimes I day dream, just stare off into space, or something like that."

Sam nodded his head, he understood more than Andrew could possibly understand. "And, what kind of things do you see in your dreams?"

Andrew shrugged, "monsters, I guess."

Sam knew there was more to it than that, but didn't want to push him too much. "Like the ones you drew?"

Andrew nodded his head.

"And, what do the monsters do in your dreams?"

"Hurt people."

"Who? And, how?"

"They hurt the people at the hospital that my mom was at. They killed people, different monsters, different ways. Some of them… well… some of them would just make people so scared that it would kill them. Some of them, I saw… I saw them take their hands, with claws for nails, and rip their hearts out, I saw them still beating in their hands until they died." Andrew looked scared, like he was seeing it all happen again.

Sam moved over on the edge of the bed so he was beside him. He pulled the chair Andrew was sitting on so he was right in front of him, he then reached out and wrapped both arms around him, embracing him in a hug, giving him some much-needed physical support.

"Andrew, it's okay, as long as I'm here, as long as Dean is here, nothing is going to hurt you, okay? Those images in your head, that's all they are. I know they seem real, and they might actually be real, but the hospital is shut down now, so, no one is being hunted by them anymore, okay? It's okay it's all in the past."

Andrew had started crying into Sam's shoulder and nodded his head, understanding what Sam was saying as truth. He wrapped his arms around Sam, leaning into the support he needed. He had never had anyone understand him like this before.

No one, even though his sister tried, no one ever came close to knowing exactly what he needed. But, Sam seemed to know, he seemed to understand. He knew that he needed the physical reassurance, he knew that he needed someone to talk to, even though Andrew didn't know that himself, Sam did.

Andrew, for the first time in as long as he can remember, felt safe, he felt truly safe. He didn't feel like a freak. He didn't feel like there was something wrong with him. He felt… normal. He wasn't sure how long he had cried for, but Sam was there the entire time. He never loosened his grip on him, he held him in his arms like Dean had done with him so many times before.

Sam did understand, he understood how badly he had wanted someone to understand him when he was going through his demon blood thing. Dean tried, he knows he did, but it wasn't like he could exactly understand. Just like, Sam couldn't understand exactly what all Dean had been through, even though he tries and he'll always be there for his big brother, but he can't truly understand it, not unless he's been through it himself.

But, this. This thing that was happening with Andrew. Sam understood. And, he knew Andrew understood him, even if he hadn't told him about the dreams he would have, Andrew would understand. There was something calming to that. Something Sam had never felt before. Something that made him not want to let go of the embrace he had with Andrew.

He knew it couldn't last forever, but he was willing to let it last as long as he needed it to. He was willing to speak whatever truths he needed to in order to make sure that Andrew didn't feel the way he did when they first arrived. He wanted, more than anything, for him to know he wasn't a freak, that there was nothing wrong with him, that monsters were real, and if he saw them, even just in his dreams, that was okay. There was nothing wrong with any of it.

Andrew loosened his grip on Sam, and Sam followed his cue. Andrew wiped the tears from his eyes, trying to dry his face on his shirt sleeve. Sam wiped both of his hands down his face, to wipe away any emotion that may be hanging around.

"I'm sorry." Andrew said, a bit embarrassed.

"For what?" Sam questioned.

Andrew just motioned to Sam's shoulder that had been soaked with his tears.

Sam just shrugged it off and gave Andrew a smile. "Ah, it's okay. No worries, besides, if I remember correctly, I was the one who put your head there in the first place. Besides, nothing wrong with letting some emotions out in the privacy of your friends."

He saw the flicker in Andrew's eyes as a smile crept across his face.

"Friends?" he questioned.

"Well, yeah. I would think so."

He hadn't realized Andrew never had a friend before. Another small break in Sam's heart. Sam patted Andrew on the shoulder after he was informed he was his first friend, ever.

"I feel honored." He said with a large smile.

Neither of them had realized Angel and Dean had returned. Not only had they returned, but together, they fixed supper 'for the kids' they joked.

"SAM, ANDREW, SUPPER'S READY!" Angel shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

They were both startled to hear her home, and supper? Ready? Sam and Andrew looked at each other with wide, excited eyes, they were both hungry.

"Race you!" Sam said, sounding like a 10-year-old again.

Andrew's grin covered his whole face.

"On your mark, get set, GO!" Andrew shouted as they both made a B line for the door, pushing each other out of the way, almost running over Angel at the bottom of the stairs and rushing to be the first to sit in a chair.

Secretly, Sam let Andrew win, but not by much, and if he was being honest, he wasn't sure if he would have won even if he didn't take it easy with Andrew. He had a lot more speed and strength than Sam thought he would. Dean and Angel both just shook their heads and laughed at each other.

"kids" Dean said with a chuckle.

Angel was surprised to see her brother acting that way. He was usually shy and slow, even around her. He was acting just like a kid, one who made his first friend, and finally had him over for dinner. Sam, well, he was just being Sam. That boy had seen enough in his life that he felt he had every right to be goofy and enjoy life when he got the chance.

"You never know what tomorrow holds" he would tell Dean when he tried to tell him to act his age. He gave up trying to understand his kid brother a long time ago. They all sat at the table and ate their supper.

"So," Dean announced. "Sam, Andrew…"

He was trying to make it sound like it was his and Angel's idea, that Sam had nothing to do with it. "You both need to get some sleep tonight, we," He pointed between him and Angel, "have some things for you to do tomorrow."

Sam knew what he was talking about but Andrew looked confused.

"That's right." Angel chimed in, looking at her brother, "you're going to get out of this house! Do some things outside tomorrow. There's a lot of things that need to be fixed up around here, and Dean was generous enough to buy some things we needed, so you and Sam are going to work on fixing them, outside, starting in the morning."

Sam groaned, again like he had no idea and disapproved, his groan was met by Andrew's, which made him pleased that it appeared they were on the same page.

"Hey sis." Andrew said.

"Yeah?"

"Can Sam sleep with me, in my room tonight?" he asked, again acting like a little boy, having his first sleep over.

Sam just shrugged his shoulders, like he didn't mind, and gave Angel a slight nod, telling her it was okay.

"Yeah, if he wants to, that's fine." she replied, giving Sam a thankful grin.

"Sleepover!" Sam shouted as he shoveled in the last bite of his food into his mouth.

Andrew was beyond pleased.

"But, first," Angel pointed to Andrew, "Shower." then moved her point to the bathroom.

Andrew dropped his head, "Okay, fine." he said as he ran upstairs to get some clean clothes and headed into the bathroom.

Angel waited until Andrew was in the bathroom before checking on him and Sam. "Everything okay between the two of you?"

"Yeah, I think he's just excited because I told him we were friends." He chuckled at that, at the pure innocence of Andrew, remembering when he was that innocent.

Angel smiled. "He's never had a friend before."

"Yeah," Sam agreed, "that's what he told me." He paused for a moment, switching his glance between Angel and Dean. "Um, I just wanted… I wanted to make sure… that it's okay…" He was stuttering, not sure exactly what he was wanting to say.

"Sam, you're stuttering, get on with it." Dean interrupted.

"I just wanted to make sure it's okay that we, me and Andrew, talk about you, both." Sam finally got the words out, both of them looking a little shocked and confused. "Look, he's… he's obviously never had anyone to talk to about… things… before, and I can relate, a lot, to him, but he's… he's told me some things, and well, I've told him some things, and we've gotten kinda personal, and since both of our lives evolve around our older siblings, personal means it kinda involves you guys too." Sam didn't realize he was blushing.

"I don't care." Angel answered, still a bit shocked. "Look, if you can bring my brother out of his shell, I don't care what you or he says about me. I just want him to be the happy boy he once was, before his nightmares started." She sounded sad at the last part.

"He's coming around." Sam reassured her, brushing at the still dampness of the shoulder of his shirt.

She was even more shocked. "He… he cried?"

Sam just nodded his head.

Dean was impressed, but knew how Sam could manage to get emotions out of someone that no one else could. "Sam." Dean chimed in, hearing the shower turn off. "You know how to handle yourself and what to say and not say in certain situations."

He then picked up a couple plates and walked into the kitchen. Sam nodded, even though Dean's back was to him. He knew that was Dean's way of telling him that he had permission to say whatever he deemed necessary.

Andrew came bouncing out of the bathroom. "All ready for bed!" he announced. "Ready?" he asked Sam.

Sam gave a grin. "Yeah, friend, let's go have our first sleepover!" He said as he followed Andrew up the stairs and to his room.


	11. Chapter 11

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 11

Dean and Angel left to head to town. Dean could feel Angel's anxiety rising as she left their brothers together, alone.

"He'll be okay." Dean reassured her. "Sam won't do anything to hurt him."

She glanced over at Dean, they were mere strangers, but there was something about them that Angel trusted. Something that told her they needed each other.

"I know." she started, "I can't explain it, I just… I trust you both. I really do! It's just, Andrew, he doesn't really interact with people. He pretty much stays to himself. He's never had any friends, and all the people that should have been his friends, they just make fun of him and call him a freak. I just… I have to protect him, you know?"

Dean nodded his head, completely understanding. "If you don't mind me asking, why do they call him a freak? He seems like a nice enough guy to me."

"Oh, he is! He's one of the nicest people you'll ever meet. The thing is, he has these… I know this is going to make me sound crazy, but, he has these dreams. Nightmares, really. And it's like he knows things he shouldn't. He has these things he dreams about, these monsters that he says were at the sanitarium, where our mom was at. And he'll, well, he would tell me things that would happen to our mom, things he shouldn't know. And, not just that, but things to other patients there as well." Her face was blushed, she was embarrassed by what she just admitted.

Dean took this opportunity, even though he didn't have Sam's permission, he knew he had to keep the connection they had going. "Sam, he has this freaky ESP thing he used to have. People, the few who knew, thought he was a freak too. Of course, he's my brother, I can mess with him, but honestly, that didn't make him anymore of a freak than anyone else. I still accepted him, no matter what he could or couldn't do. It's just the way he was. That's what made Sam, Sam."

Angel smiled the sweetest smile, thankful that someone could understand them this way.

"He would think of himself as a freak too, I tried to reassure him that he wasn't. I tried to keep his spirits up, even if he believed what everyone else thought over what I thought. But, I totally get it. I know Sam gets it too. He'll understand, you don't have to worry about that. He's a gentle giant." Dean gave Angel a reassuring smile.

"Thanks." Angel said, appreciating his gentle approach, and nonjudgmental stance. "Sometimes, I feel like… like even though I have my brother, I feel alone. I feel like no one out there could possibly understand. My life hasn't exactly been the easiest life and so, I guess, in a way, I see things different than everyone else, and I don't see my brother as a freak, I see it, as… I don't know, if nothing else, it's just a coping mechanism for him."

Angel shrugged to herself. "But, honestly, I think it's something more, but I don't know what, maybe he's just psychic or something? Either way, it doesn't matter, I still love him and accept him the way he is. I know that makes me sound crazy, but I can't help it."

She was even more embarrassed, but Dean gave a reassuring grin which helped her feel more comfortable. "You see, the thing is, I do what I have to, to make sure my brother is taken care of, to make sure he knows how loved he is. I did things, things I'm not proud of, things I wish I didn't have to do, but I had to keep my little brother safe. Safe from our dad and the world."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, I… I have, the same… feelings…" Dean stuttered, unsure of how to reassure her without getting too personal.

"I, um… I've never told anyone, I've never had anyone I could talk to, I don't really have any friends either. I mean, people don't accept me because of my brother. It doesn't really bother me, just gets lonely sometimes. He's never had a friend, but I have, a couple times, didn't last long because they all thought I should have shunned my brother, sent him to live with my mom or something. but, I know him, and he isn't crazy. He's just… different, which doesn't make him bad, it just makes him different."

She paused, she had gotten off track of what she was planning on saying. She took a long deep breath. "My dad, he wasn't around very often, but when he was, I made Andrew stay in our room. I would even bring him food to the room. I didn't want him anywhere around that crazy man! And, when I got older, he would wait until Andrew went to sleep, and… he would, uh… he would come and get me, make me go to his room with him."

Angel, the same as Andrew, had seemed that when she started talking she had a need to continue, a need to release what she had been holding onto. "To his bed… with him. he would… I had to… treat him like he was… like I was his wife, or whatever." Now she was starting to get her words tangled into each other.

Dean placed his hand over hers. She hadn't realized her hands were trembling. "I think, sometimes, Andrew wasn't always asleep, he was just smart enough to pretend like he was. I didn't stop him, I didn't fight him. If I did, I was afraid he would just start hurting Andrew again. I have to be honest, I don't know everything that man did to him. I know, I witnessed, him beating him, but I don't know what there was that I didn't witness, that I don't know about. And, well… he's not exactly the talking type."

"Yeah, I understand. I pretty much, found myself in the same situation. My dad, he wasn't a total asshole. I know he did the best he could with me and Sam. He did what he knew, which was what he learned day by day, not like he exactly had much experience with raising 2 boys alone, on the road. We moved, a lot, for his, uh… job. But, he got lonely too. And, I guess he figured, why go looking for a one-night stand when he had everything he needed sleeping in the bed next to his."

Dean drew in a deep breath to recollect his thoughts. "I'm glad he would wait for Sam to be asleep. I know he was. He didn't know. He had no idea what Dad did, he was kept clueless. I made a deal with my dad, I told him I wouldn't stop him, wouldn't fight him, as long as he didn't let Sammy know, as long as he didn't do anything in front of him. Sam, he didn't even know that Dad beat on me the way he did. It was all kept behind closed doors."

Now, Dean seemed to be the one rambling on. "Actually, the truth is, I didn't tell him until about a year ago. He would uh… he would, a couple times. He had his buddies… he would send Sam somewhere else, and he would make me do things… to keep them happy as well." Dean was feeling ashamed. He couldn't believe what he had just admitted to.

Angel understood, she knew how hard it was to admit that, she knew the only reason he did was to help her feel more comfortable with herself.

"So, um… Sam has this idea." Dean had to change the subject before his emotions took over. "He wanted me to talk to you about getting some things to fix your house with. He wants to get Andrew to help him do it, to give him something to do and connect to him. He said they were talking earlier and he wants to talk to him some more, wants to help him feel more normal, less freakish."

Dean smirked at that word. "I don't know. it's a little brother thing is guess?" Dean added as he rubbed his hand down the back of his neck, feeling the flushness fill his face.

Angel was shocked and excited, both. "Yeah! Yeah, that sounds… yeah."

They had pulled up to the parking lot. Dean was more than happy they had arrived. He didn't have much more left in him to hold back emotions right now. They did their grocery shopping, Dean paid. Then, they headed to the hardware store to purchase what was needed for repairs on the home.

They felt so comfortable together, like an old married couple, Dean thought. They joked about how crazy life would be if their little brothers, who seemed so much alike, lived together. They both agreed it would probably drive them crazy and they would be the ones who would seem like they needed to be admitted somewhere.

They did a lot of bumping shoulders and goofing around. They both enjoyed feeling the comfort and freedom of being able to just be themselves. Once they were finished, Baby loaded down with the purchases Dean had made, they started the drive back to the house, opening themselves up to more personal, open, honest talk.

Dean cleared his throat. "So, your brother has a connection with that old sanitarium?" He wasn't sure how to ask, but he knew he still had a job to do.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that. You sure do seem interested in that old place."

"Yeah, it's kinda, what we do, me and Sam." Dean wasn't sure how to explain that to her.

"Like, history stuff?"

"Something like that."

"Okay, yeah, I can tell you a lot more, if you wanna really know." Angel hesitated for a moment. "I can… I can take you there, inside, but, with the people disappearing, I'm not really sure if that's such a great idea."

"Really? You can take us there? Inside?" Dean sounded a little too excited about that, making Angel give him a chuckle.

"I've been meaning to take Andrew there anyhow. I know it might sound crazy but, I think it might help him. He's never been inside, but he has all these nightmares about that place, so I thought maybe it would help if he saw it."

"We would have to keep a close eye on him, couldn't let him disappear like the others." Dean replied, he was really thinking out loud. "Sam would keep an eye on him, he wouldn't let anything happen to him. Neither would I. But, not tonight, we aren't ready yet, Andrew isn't ready."

Angel just sat there, allowing Dean to run through whatever was going through his mind. She had been wanting to go there but was always too afraid, somehow, she felt safe with Dean. She leaned over in her seat and laid her head on his shoulder.

He didn't mind. He didn't even seem to react. He was trained enough to not react to things. That's where her head stayed the entire ride home. Dean had silenced, his music playing softly, filling the silence. Angel thought it was nice. She had never had someone she could lean on, literally.

They made their way back to the home. Sam and Andrew were in his room talking, they hadn't even realized Angel and Dean were home. She made her way upstairs to ask them to help carry things inside and heard the mumbling of their conversation through the door and chose not to interrupt them.

She headed back downstairs, informing Dean that she didn't want to disturb whatever they were talking about. Together, the two of them carried in the groceries and put them away. They decided there was no point in emptying the home repair items from the car until they were needed in the morning.

Angel started supper and Dean was quick to help. He was always the one responsible for cooking for this family so it felt natural to him. Once they had finished cooking their meal, they decided it was time to interrupt their brothers.

"SAM, ANDREW, SUPPER'S READY!" Angel shouted from the bottom of the stairs.

She was surprised when she heard the thumping of the feet heading her way. She had to jump out of the way to keep from being trampled on. Her and Dean just chuckled at each other, remembering their conversation about how crazy they would be if they lived together. The fact that they were both acting like 10-year-old boys during dinner didn't help them change their minds any. Dean couldn't help but laugh to himself when Andrew asked if Sam could sleep with him. Sam was right there with him, acting like a child again.

Dean sat back, remembering the innocence his brother once had. Remembering when he felt the comfort and had the self-esteem to be comfortable with himself. They boys bounced up the stairs, acting like just that, boys. Dean and Angel cleaned the table and Dean started washing dishes, as Angel joined him, drying them.

"Hey Dean." Angel started, "Thank you, for everything."

Dean paused, stopping to look at her. "You're welcome, but, I haven't really done anything, not yet."

Angel smiled, "Yes you have, more than what you could possibly understand. You… you helped me, and Andrew, feel normal, feel like maybe we do belong… you know, maybe not in the 'normal' world, but somewhere."

Dean nodded, understanding. "I grew up not belonging. Not fitting in. I… I didn't think there was anyone like us. Anyone like me. I was convinced, the more complicated my life got, that the chance of fitting in anywhere was impossible. I, honestly, I wasn't wrong, but, I wasn't right either. I mean, there are others out there, like me, like Sam. Sure, some people, most people, aren't exactly like us, but close enough to understand that there is a place, a world, where we do belong."

Angel reached over, wrapped both of her arms around Dean's waist and gave him a tight squeeze.

Dean welcomed it by placing a hand on her back.

"See, that's what I'm talking about." She said while she was hugging him. "Thank you. You don't know how much it means to have someone who understands. Someone who can, without a doubt, make me believe that Andrew and I aren't crazy, we aren't weird. I mean, sure, we may seem weird to some, but then again, those people seem weird to me, so I mean, I guess you helped me see a different 'normal'." She released Dean, returning to the dishes she was drying.

Dean had finished washing and turned, leaning his back against the sink, both his hands gripping the edge of the counter top. He couldn't help but notice the beauty radiating off Angel. She had shoulder length dark brown hair that flowed just perfect, the color of her eyes matched her hair. The dark brown lashes that flowed seemed to radiate the brown sparkle in her eyes.

Her skin was a light tan color, the shape of her body, the only word Dean could think of was 'perfect'. She was absolutely perfect. She had such an innocent smile, even though Dean understood the pain that lurked behind it. She glanced over at Dean, noticing him watching her. Her cheeks turned a bright pink as she brushed her hair behind her ear.

He noticed a thin line, what appeared to be an old scar, running from behind her ear, across her jawline, and down the side of her neck, stopping just before it reached the edge of her collar. Absent minded, Dean reached out and ran his finger down the line of the scar. At first, it startled her, she jumped, just a little, not enough to force Dean's hand away. He traced it down to where it ended, leaving his hand lingering there just a little longer. She reached up and grasped his hand, not pulling it away, instead, embracing it.

"My dad did that." she said in a soft, quiet tone. "I decided, one night, I didn't want to go through his torture anymore. I didn't want to experience the pain I knew was going to come."

She turned, facing toward Dean, removing his hand from her neck but not letting go of it as she continued to talk. "He got me into his room before I had decided I wanted to be a hard headed, child, and resisted him. He… took out his knife and… grabbed me by my hair, forcing my head back against his shoulder, he stood behind me, and told me if I wasn't going to let him do what he wanted then he would kill me, slowly. He ran the knife down the side of my face and neck."

She traced the scar with her free hand. "I remember I started to whimper, I told him I was sorry and that I'd do what he wanted. Of course, that night was especially bad, as would be expected. It was my lesson, not to disobey my dad, ever." She finished by dropping her head, looking at the ground.

Dean took his free hand and wrapped it around her, pulling her into his embrace. "I…" Dean started. "I was just beat, until I couldn't move, or made to do some ridiculous training, like running for hours without being allowed to stop, or giving him 50 pushups… things like that… if I disobeyed. I learned early not to defy my dad. I learned at a young age to just say 'yes sir' and do what he commanded, it was just easier that way, less pain, less punishment. Even though, it seemed I still couldn't do anything right. I still got punished for something, anything, Dad could find to punish me over."

He hadn't realized his tears started dripping from his eyes, landing on top of Angel's head. She released her hold on Dean's hand and wrapped both her arms around him, he did the same. He could feel his shirt becoming wet from Angel's eyes. She was shedding silent tears, the same as he was. It seemed like forever that they stood in each other's embrace. Neither of them wanting to let go. Neither of them wanting to lose what they had spent their whole lives looking for.

"Dean?"

Sam's voice was sympathetic, a little concerned, but mostly apologetic for interrupting. It startled him, just enough that he reached up and dried his face with his hand. Angel turned her head to look at Sam. Her eyes were red and filled with tears. They still remained embraced in each other's hold, even though their grips had loosened.

"Everything okay?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, just having a chick moment." Dean replied with a slight grin.

Sam grinned back, giving a quick nod, telling Dean he understood.

"I just… uh, I came to get me and Andrew something to drink. We've been up there talking… I guess, the same as down here?" He half stated and half asked the last part, getting a look from Dean, telling him he was right. His hand starting to rub circles on Angel's back.

"Good." Dean replied. "You able to help?"

"Yeah, yeah I think so. He's a really cool guy." Sam started as he opened the fridge to get 2 drinks. "He just needed someone to help him understand he's not crazy, or a freak. He seems normal to me." Sam finished with a smile to both of them. "Night." He said as he turned on his heels to head upstairs.

"Night." Dean replied.

"Hey Sam." Angel said, pushing herself away from Dean.

Sam had stopped and turned to her, she walked up to him, giving him a quick hug.

"Thank you." she said.

Sam nodded and turned, heading back to the stairs, back to the emotional conversation he was having with his new friend. Leaving Dean and Angel alone, again. They both looked at each other, faces blushed, a little embarrassed that they were caught at such an emotionally weak moment.

"Hey, wanna take this conversation upstairs? Where we won't get disturbed?" Angel asked.

Dean agreed, not really sure what he was agreeing to. His stomach tightened as Angel took his hand and led him into her room. He thought she was beautiful. He even had the thought that if life was different, this was someone he could see settling down with, turning old with. Someone who he could cherish forever. But, that wasn't the fate of his life and he knew it.

He was a bit hesitant, tried to hide his emotions, but failed miserably. He sat on the edge of her bed, his nerves were a bit frazzled. He didn't notice he was ringing his fingers together, tightly gripping at his own hands that laid in his lap. His face, still felt hot, he knew it was still blushed. He almost felt like he couldn't breathe, like he needed to just bolt for the door. He felt like… like he was a teenager, in a girl's room for the first time.

He had been with plenty of women. This was different. He found a respect in Angel. He didn't want to ruin the connection they had, didn't want to break the trust they had each found. He wasn't sure what her intent was, but he was clear of what his was not. She sat beside him on the bed, she picked up Dean's hands that were tangled into each other and held them between her hands.

"Hey." she said softly as she stopped his trembling. "You okay?"

He just nodded, not able to speak through the lump growing in his throat.

She chuckled a little. "You're acting like a school boy."

He just turned, looking at her and gave a nervous smile.

"Don't worry, I didn't invite you into my room for anything but just some friendly conversation." She said with a smile.

Dean released a breath he didn't realize he was holding. Angel let out another small chuckle, she was actually pleased with Dean's reaction. Made her feel good. She was a little nervous too, hoping he wasn't expecting something more, but judging by his reaction, there was no way they were getting any further than a friendly hug and maybe some more tears.

They sat up most of the night, talking about their lives, sharing stories about their lives, mentioning the similarities they had, even though they weren't all good ones, it made them both feel good to hear someone else could relate. Dean told her about their job, about what him and Sam does. He told her about the monsters and reassured her that only made her brother sound saner to them than most people out there.

Most people denied the monsters they saw, disbelieved themselves. But, Andrew was different, he had enough faith in himself to believe what he saw, to know that he wasn't crazy. Even though it took her a minute to wrap her head around it, she was thankful for him telling her, thankful that he believed the same about her brother as she did.

She understood more now, understood why they were so interested about the sanitarium and the recent disappearances. She confessed to Dean that her brother's nightmares have gotten worse since the disappearances, like he could see what was happening, like the monsters, or ghosts, or spirits, whatever you wanted to call them, they were still there, still getting their revenge on the living.

She told him a few more horror stories that she knew about while the place was still opened. She explained how the reason she wanted to go inside was because she didn't know what happened to her mom. She didn't know if she was alive or dead, and if she was dead, she didn't know how she died.

She was hoping Andrew could help with that. He had told her of dreams he had, seeing her tortured, seeing medical testing being done to her, even seeing the people who were supposed to be taking care of her abusing and raping her. But, he couldn't tell her if she was dead or not. Also, he couldn't tell her if their dad was dead or not either.

She wanted to know that as well. Not because she cared if he was alive, but because she just needed to know for her own peace of mind. They discussed a plan for the next day. Dean was certain Sam and Andrew were having the same deep, personal conversations, especially since Sam found it necessary to ask permission to talk about the two of them on a personal level. So, he decided, they still needed to work on the repairs, to make her home a better living environment for the both of them.

But, maybe they all 4 could pitch in and make the work go faster, especially since what they were hoping to accomplish, the whole opening up and talking thing, was already a success. Angel agreed with much excitement to be able to get some much-needed repairs done, and to be able to spend the day with Dean, and Sam. Then, they hatched a plan, that he would have to run by Sam first of course, that tomorrow evening they would go inside the sanitarium.

They agreed they would go there for two different missions, that they would all work together. One, to find what was causing the living to disappear, and two, to find the status on her parents. They both agreed that it would be best if they didn't separate, there were too many missing already and they didn't want any of them to become the next name on the list.

They had changed positions several times. They went from sitting beside each other on the edge of the bed, to laying across from each other, to sitting beside each other leaned against the head board, to now, Angel was laying on her back, under the covers.

Dean had removed his boots and outer shirt, leaving on his pants and t-shirt. Angel had changed into a pair of sweatpants and a sweat shirt. Dean made his way under the covers as well, as the air turned colder with the night, and was lying beside her. He was lying on his side, facing Angel, his head propped up on his hand, being held up by his elbow. His free hand was brushing his fingers through her hair.

She had turned the main light off in the room, leaving the small lamp on the table beside her bed as their only light. Both of them were feeling their eyelids getting heavy. But, there was one thing Angel hadn't told Dean yet. She was scared to, even with everything they had admitted to, she was afraid to confess to one thing.

"Dean?" Angel said with a shaky, tired voice.

Dean didn't miss the nervousness in her voice and gave her his full attention.

"I… I was wondering… I um… I sometimes, not all the time, just sometimes… I have these nightmares, not like Andrew's, but dreams about things… when I was younger. I know it's been a long time and it sounds stupid, but I still have dreams about it and… it scares me, sometimes, sometimes I wake up, afraid my dad is going to be coming into my room."

Dean continued to brush his fingers through her hair, he let the hand that was holding his head up drop to the bed and he pushed it under her head, laying his head on the pillow beside hers, holding her in his arm.

"I feel… I feel safe right now." she admitted. "I know, I know this is probably the most childish thing you'll ever hear, but I was… I was wondering if you would stay… here… right here, where you're at… tonight?"

Dean tightened his grip on her, pulling their bodies closer together, wrapping both of his arms around her body as she turned to her side, allowing him to cradle her, as she buried her head into his chest.

"Angel." His voice was so calming to her. "I won't leave, if that's what you want. But, just know, even though I think you're absolutely perfect in every way, and I feel a connection like I've never felt with anyone, including Sam, I have a great respect for you."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, I'll keep you safe, I'll stay right here, I'll hold you as long as I need to, as long as you need me to, but… I can't take it any farther, not right now, probably not ever."

He admitted, not believing the words that he was saying, if she was anyone else, he would have already had both their clothes off and be finished with her by now, but not Angel, she was different, she was special.

She let her tears soak through his shirt. "Thank you." She managed to muffle out. "I… I'm not used to that, to be honest." she was taking short breaks, speaking around the tears. "I've never… I've never known anyone to respect me, not like that."

Dean tightened his grip on her, holding her as tight as he could, allowing her the freedom to let her emotions flow. No other words were needed. All she needed now was just to know she was safe, at least tonight, no one would be hurting her, and more importantly, no one would be judging her, or her brother. For now, she felt normal, she felt like she was right where she belonged. For the first time, she belonged.


	12. Chapter 12

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 12

Morning came before any of them were ready for it. It seemed all four of them woke up at the same time, or at least left their rooms at the same time. Sam gave Dean a look when he saw Dean come out of the room with Angel. Dean gave a look back, shaking his head.

The boys always had a way of communicating without saying a word. The whole conversation that just took place was Sam saying 'seriously, dude? Please tell me you didn't sleep with her the first night and ruin everything we are trying to accomplish, we have a job to do, remember?' and Dean's reply was 'you have nothing to worry about, man, we didn't do anything, it was completely innocent. Trust me, I'm shocked too!'

They all headed downstairs, Sam grabbed the shower, while Dean and Angel started breakfast. Once breakfast was finished they all sat down and ate, leaving Sam and Andrew to clean the dishes, Dean was the next to shower, leaving Angel last.

While she showered, the boys unloaded the supplies and started their plan for the day. Dean was able to get Sam to himself, telling him the plan him and Angel had for today, quickly running through the important things they had talked about, the things that were related to their job.

Sam agreed and quickly rejoined Andrew. They were already working on replacing the shingles by the time Angel came out of the house. Dean was fixing the broken and weak boards on the porch, planning on fixing the steps next. Angel sat with Dean. She wasn't much into repair work but helped however she could. At one point, she went inside, making them a light lunch of sandwiches and chips with some fresh made lemonade.

They were more than happy to take a break for lunch. All four of them laughing and joking around. The day couldn't be more perfect. Even the weather seemed to cooperate perfectly. Angel returned to the house to clean up after their lunch while the boys started working again. Angel's heart was full. She stepped outside and couldn't help but just stare.

Dean had finished the porch and was working on the new steps. He was hot, sweaty, he removed his outer shirt, leaving his t-shirt on, soaked in sweat. He was busy, working, hammering away. Sam and Andrew had finished replacing the shingles. Those ugly blue tarps were gone, replaced by what looked like a normal, safe, roof. One she didn't have to worry about leaking or falling in.

They were working together, removing old windows, replacing them with new, insolated, double paned windows. Ones that will help keep the home warm and safe. Windows that would allow Angel to remove the old black garbage bags and let light into the home. She was filled with joy. Filled with a sense of security she had never felt before.

The boys worked hard trying to finish what they could before it started getting dark and the weather turned colder with each moment of the sun going down. They quickly, finished up the projects they were working on, and returned to the inside of the home. They hadn't finished everything yet, but, they were already able to tell the difference.

The front windows, replaced with the new ones. The back and front door were both replaced with stronger, safer doors with bright windows in them, ones that didn't have to be covered. The roof was completely repaired, the front porch and steps, could be used again without fear of falling through, the handrails that lined the front of the house were also stabilized with replaced boards. They opted out of fixing dinner that night, choosing to fill up on more sandwiches, packing some extra bottles of water in their bags. They were ready, being sure everyone was properly dressed for the cooling temperatures.

They made their way into the sanitarium just before complete darkness. Giving them a chance to quickly look over their surroundings and become familiar with the setup of the building before it got too dark. Dean made sure that everyone understood they were to stay together.

If, for some reason they needed to separate, Sam and Andrew were to stay together, and Dean and Angel were paired. The interpretation of that was different for Dean and Sam as it was to Andrew and Angel. To Dean and Sam, that meant they both had someone they were responsible for. Sam had the responsibility of making sure Andrew stayed safe, and that meant he had to stay together with him.

Dean, just like Sam, was responsible for Angel. But, he also had a sense of responsibility for all of them that were there. He knew he had to look out for his brother too, as neither of them would really have anyone looking out for them, keeping each other safe if they separated.

The place was earie feeling. It was like the evil, the hatred, radiating from the walls in the building, chilling the brothers to the bones. There was something there, no doubt about that. They had been hunting long enough to trust their feelings. Just a glance at each other told the brothers they were both feeling the same.

"Stay close" Dean ordered, not speaking to any one in particular, but to the whole group.

Even though, Sam knew that meant he needed to be sure the other two stayed close as well. Sam had been hunting long enough he knew when to argue with his brother's commands and when not to, something told him, this was not the time to argue or question his brother.

Remembering the promise, he made to Angel, they weren't only looking for ghosts, but for records as well, which honestly, would help them with identifying the ghosts as well. They made their way through the place, slowly. They had decided if they didn't accomplish their mission tonight they could come back, they were in no hurry to be anywhere else.

They looked through paperwork and documentations as they made their way into each room. The routine was the same, Dean would do a sweep of the room, making sure EMF wasn't going off, making sure the room they entered was safe, while Angel and Sam would look through the documentations they came across.

Andrew, looked through everything else. He had the need to touch everything. Every now and then, he would make a comment about the place they were at, being where he saw something happen in his dreams. He would turn over items, looking under everything.

When Dean had finished his sweep, he joined Andrew in looking under and through cabinets, making sure nothing was missed. Some papers Angel would gather, placing them in a bag, and others, she would leave where they were. Dean figured she was collecting the things she thought would help her find out the whereabouts of her parents.

Some rooms, they would get spikes. Some rooms didn't feel safe, kept Dean on his guard, kept his senses tingling. They had weapons full of rock salt, just in case, with iron rods at their sides. If they ran across anyone that was human, it wasn't like they were completely unarmed to handle them. They kept their normal weapons, the guns in their waistbands, the knives in their boots, but even without those, they would never be truly disarmed, they still had their strength, the fists they were trained to use properly, and their brains combined with their hunting wits.

Sam and Dean knew they would be okay, they were more than able to keep the other two safe in their journey. After finishing the ground level, Sam and Dean agreed they would work their way upstairs. They knew the basement held the morgue, and most experiences told them spirits preferred the dark, damp places, the ones they could be left alone to hide in, things like basements and attics, they figured, for the safety of the others, in order to finish the search Angel was on, it would be best to do a baseline sweep, to investigate all the rooms, before hitting the places that were most likely to contain the things Dean and Sam were hunting for.

Dean even thought about, after searching all the rooms, gathering what paperwork they could, sending Angel and Andrew home, to keep them safe. They continued up the stairs, carefully, being aware that the building was decaying under the harsh conditions of the weather and vandalism. The floors felt weak, the walls had peeling paint, some walls were bare, down to the concrete.

There was artwork and symbols painted on the walls. Words of gang names and curse words scribbled everywhere. There were also, words of hate, words of fear. These words were different. These words were carved into the woodwork and walls, unlike the spray-painted ones. These words appeared to be put there by the people who once occupied these rooms.

The word 'help' was written several times, in several different rooms. Warnings were written, or carved into doors. One door had 'danger, violent' carved into the wood. Making them believe, whoever once lived in that room was considered a violent patient.

Anther door had 'sick' written on it, once again they took that as a sign that perhaps the patient or patients in that room were sick with something, perhaps TB or some other infectious disease, it was a warning for anyone who would enter.

Other doors, or the walls beside the doors, had similar warnings on them. 'Crazy', 'paranoid', 'slut', 'dangerous', 'violent' sent out warnings of who was occupying the rooms. Some of the warnings were scratched out, replaced with a new warning, leading them to believe the original occupant had passed on, giving space to someone new.

As they made their way down the hall, investigating every room, the warnings began to change. They began to get more specific, lengthier than just the one words they had been seeing. 'do not put bed in room', 'remove sharps before entering', 'must remain restrained', 'child predator', then their hearts sunk as they began to see the words 'test subject, do not enter' on several of the doors that finished filling the hall way.

The stairs had come up into the middle of the hallway. Once they finished one end they made their way to the other side. The warnings seemed to be the same, the less violent in the middle, the more violent they were the further down the hall they were kept, finished by the test subjects. This was probably because they were unsure of how these patients would react after whatever test was done to them. Or, perhaps, they were so messed up, physically, that they weren't allowed to be part of society.

Andrew had a hard time entering the test subjects' rooms. Some of them, he refused to enter, just stood at the doorway. He would make comments about what had happened to them, about how scary they were, about how the men there made them scary, through their testing practices.

Both sides of the hall were lined with rooms. Each room appeared to have at least 2 beds in them, some of them 3 or 4 if they could fit them. By the time this place was forced to close down, it was obvious it was over crowded, not leaving space for anyone to actually live. The conditions were deplorable, at best. Even with the deuterating conditions of the place, you could tell how bad it must have been.

The mattresses, none of them clean. It looked like urine and blood soaked through almost every one of them, you could tell it was old, nothing fresh from the vandals that frequented the place.

The next floor up, proved to look identical from the floor they had just come from, they investigated room by room, the same as before. They made their way down one side of the hall, then started working their way down the other side. Dean was questioning if they should have Angel and Andrew leave, head back home, where it was safe.

He knew the only remaining floors were the top floor, which held the offices and possibly a few more rooms, and the basement that held the morgue, cafeteria, and who knew what else. The point is, those were the places Dean knew they would find the most activity, if any.

The place seemed to be relatively quiet, at least the floors they had visited seemed quiet. Few EMF spikes, no strange noises. But, Dean knew that Angel would want to see the top floor, or where ever her dad's office was, so he continued to keep them close, to keep an eye on them, continued feeling responsible for the whole group. The only thing different between this floor and the last floor were the rooms seemed more filled.

They all had multiple beds squeezed into the tiny walls. Words, warnings, etched into the walls and doors of the rooms. They worked their way down the hall toward the test subject rooms. They entered one room and the atmosphere seemed to change. Dean was at the back wall of the room when his EMF reader started to light up and make its screeching noise. Andrew, started to freak out, running away from the room, Sam followed.

"Andrew!" Angel yelled, heading out of the room to follow her brother and Sam.

"Angel, wait!" Dean warned but she had already exited the room before Dean had made it to the doorway.

Dean was planning on heading out of the room, with the others, before the heavy metal door to the room slammed shut in his face.

"SAM, SAM!" Dean started yelling as he banged on the door, trying to open it, it appeared to be locked, wouldn't even budge.

Dean figured the doors locked from the inside and someone from the outside would have to open it.

"DEAN!" Sam shouted back, running back to the room. He also, having no success in opening the door. "Dean! Are you okay?" Sam shouted.

"Yeah, just get me out of here!" Dean yelled back. Dean could feel the air in the room thickening, causing a slight panic in his voice.

"Dean, just hang on!" Sam shouted. "I'm going to get Angel and Andrew out of here, get them to safety, I'll be back, okay?"

Dean hated the sound of that, he wasn't sure why but fear was starting to grip him, he didn't want Sam to leave him alone, but knew he needed to make sure the others were safe. Angel argued that they couldn't leave him, and they still had more investigating to do. Sam argued back, agreeing they could return tomorrow, but for now he needed to make sure everyone was safe and had to figure out how to get his brother out of the room.

"Dean, Dean?" Sam didn't get a reply. "Dean hang on, I'll be back."

Sam began to feel panic filling his body, he wasn't getting a reply from Dean, but knew he had a job to do and couldn't stand around waiting for his brother to answer.

"Dean, I'm getting them out of here, I'll be back, just hang on."

He reassured him before heading to the front door with Angel and Andrew. Angel, still upset they had to leave, was beginning to agree with Sam, that something didn't feel right, they didn't feel safe anymore. They all 3 rushed to the car, Sam started the engine and peeled out of their parking spot.

He drove as fast as he could, it was down curvy backroads, so he couldn't speed too fast. He made it back to their home in record time. He hurried them out of the car and into the house, just for safety measures he handed them both bottles of salt from the trunk, instructed them to put a line of salt in front of each door and each window, make sure they were all locked up tight, and he would be back as soon as he freed Dean.

He made sure they had his cell phone number, just in case anything was to happen at the house and he needed to head back. After they both agreed to what Sam had said, he started to hurry out of the house, being stopped by Angel's tender grip on his arm.

"Be careful, and save him, please." she said in a low, almost whispered voice.

"I will." Sam reassured her as he headed out to the car and sped back to his brother.

Once he arrived he retrieved more items from the trunk, throwing them into a bag, tools to help remove the door, and other supernatural, monster fighting weapons. He carefully, but quickly, headed back across the yard and into the building. Heading back to the room where he had left Dean.

Dean felt the air in the room get heavier, making it harder to breathe. His voice was hitched in his throat. He couldn't yell, couldn't call for Sammy. He was starting to feel suffocated as the dark fog started rising from the floor and filling the room, causing Dean to choke on what little air he felt he had left.

He closed his eyes, choking, trying to catch his breath. Suddenly, he felt like someone was in the room with him, he knew he wasn't alone anymore. He opened his eyes and inches from his face was the face of a doctor.

His face was covered with a medical mask, his head had a matching white cap covering his hair. His doctor coat, a matching white, all of them, the coat, hat, and mask covered with what appeared to be splattered blood, it was red, like fresh blood.

Dean didn't recognize him, not until he removed his mask. It was Angel and Andrew's father standing in front of him, but he wasn't real, he was a ghost, of some type, which only meant one thing. Their father was dead, his body, possibly still on the premises, somewhere, or perhaps there was an item he was connected to.

Either way, Dean figured there was a reason he was in this particular room. Perhaps, he thought, maybe this was their mother's room? Maybe he was still connected to something with his wife. Dean remembered, they still didn't know if she was dead or alive.

He could hear the man in front of him speaking, but wasn't paying him any attention, he was too busy trying to figure out what was going on, and why, and how to get out of it. The man, reached out and grabbed Dean by the chin, yanking his head up, making him look into his eyes. He saw an evil smirk cross the man's face.

"You belong here."

He told Dean. Sending a shock waved down his body as the man moved both of his hands, resting them on the sides of Dean's head, stopping over his temples. Dean felt pain, like pins and needles, shooting through his body as the man pressed harder on the sides of his head. The pressure and pain continued until Dean was no longer able to stand, he dropped to his knees with an audible groan of pain through gritted teeth, the man never releasing him.

The evil laughs from the man filled the echoing silence in the room.

"NO!"

Dean screamed as he pushed the man's hands off his head. The pain that pierced his body came to a stop, but the pressure in his head seemed to intensify, leaving him feeling disoriented. He tried to stand, tried to remember the way the room looked while they were investigating it.

The heavy door blocked out the light. The batteries in all his devices seemed to be drained, even his phone refused to work. The only light he had was the small amount of moon light that made its way through the cracks that covered the boarded-up window. It was only a small window, at the top of the wall, near the ceiling.

He figured it was designed so no one could escape from it. He stumbled away from the door, toward the back of the room. He wasn't sure why, but he had a need to escape the place he was just attacked. He was confused, figured it was from the pressure in his head, that the doctor did something to him, making him disoriented.

Every place he thought there was an item, a bed, something he could lean on, there was nothing. The places he was sure was a clear pathway only gave him bruises on his legs as he bumped into items. He wasn't even sure what he was surrounded by, when he reached out to grab the items he ran into, it didn't feel like anything that was in the room.

The only thing Dean remembered that was movable in the room were old metal beds and mattresses, along with a few extra personal belongings left from patients that once occupied the surroundings. The pressure in his head continued to build, he felt like he was never going to reach the back wall of the room, he couldn't remember the room being this big.

With the head pressure turning into pain, radiating down his neck and into his shoulders and upper back, he became more confused. His ears were being pierced by the overly loud laughter of the doctor, accompanied by a high pitch screeching sound, intensifying the feeling in his head. His laughs seemed to get louder and eviler.

Dean tripped, over a bed, falling onto it, landing on his stomach. It didn't feel like the old beds that occupied the room, this bed felt… more like… a motel bed? Dean was really confused, concerned. It was still dark, Dean felt like his eyes were glued shut, he couldn't open them, or maybe they were opened, just filled with complete darkness. He felt his worst nightmares coming true, again.

It wasn't like it was an actual nightmare, it was more like reliving the worst part of his life. He was lying on his stomach on a bed, he felt people around him, he could hear them, feel them, but he couldn't see them, he couldn't see anything. He felt like he was in a motel room, no longer in the abandoned building, but he couldn't be sure without being able to see his surroundings.

He felt hands, on his back, on his legs, pulling his pants off him. He wanted to scream, wanted to fight to get away, but, he couldn't. He couldn't move, couldn't scream, he was paralyzed. The only thing he could do was hear and feel. He could feel everything. As the unknown man pressed himself inside of Dean, forcing his body to feel as it was being torn through his stomach, his chest, all the way to join the pressure in his head.

The man laughed, told Dean how good he was, how much he enjoyed him. Asked Dean if he liked it too. Dean didn't understand why everyone had to ask him that. Once the man was finished, leaving part of himself inside, leaving him there, ready for the next man to enter his body. The pain seemed never ending. He couldn't remember the pain being this bad.

His memories, slightly faded, but experiencing it again, brought back the old reminders of how bad it was. He had pushed himself through, surviving everything, life had thrown at him. He always told himself it wasn't that bad, he could handle everything, that everything just looked, or sounded, worse than it really was. But, now, reliving it, he realized he was wrong.

It was bad, it was worse than he had made it out to be. All he wanted to do, at this moment, was scream. He wanted to release everything that his body was experiencing. He wasn't sure, but he thought maybe he had passed out, or at least the current situation had changed. He could still feel the pain, the punishment his body was just put through.

He then, heard his father's voice. He still couldn't see, or move, or scream. He felt a fist come down, meeting the side of his face. His father's evil, hurtful words, filling his ears. One hateful word after another. All the words he was hearing, he had heard before, not all at the same time, they were from different moments in his life, but right now, they were all being shouted at him at the same time. Filling his heart with nothing but a deep ache.

Dean would never admit it, but he always believed, at least parts of his dad's words were true. He knew he was worthless, a screw up, but he fought through everything he knew to be true, he had to keep pushing on for Sam, he couldn't leave him, he had to protect him. Fists and boots kept coming to blows with his body. It had felt like hours had passed since it started. He had forgotten where he was or that his brother was supposed to return, supposed to save him.


	13. Chapter 13

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 13

Dean wasn't sure how much time had passed, the punches and kicks continued, covering his body full of bruises and cuts. His father's voice still ringing in his ears, filling his head with every hateful thing he had ever heard in his life. The voice, trying its best to convince Dean of his worthlessness.

He blacked out again, or maybe it was just his mind playing tricks on him? The next thing he knew, he was sitting on the ground in the old room, his back against the wall, he could still feel the bruises that covered his body, the injuries caused to him internally, his body felt broken, torn, he was mentally exhausted as much as physically.

He was, finally, able to open his eyes, when he did, he was face to face with the doctor. Suddenly, without warning, the doctor reached up, placing his hands back on the sides of Dean's head, causing the pain of pins and needles combined with the torment his body just experienced, and the pressure in his head that didn't seem to go away.

"Don't be afraid, my child." The doctor began to speak. "I'll take care of you, I'll heal you. The fear of your memories will go away, I'll take care of it for you. All you have to do is trust me. Just trust, I'll make it all better."

Dean was light headed, his brain swimming in his head. He was sure several hours had passed, if not several days. He wasn't able to respond, he was glad he could see again, even if everything was foggy and disoriented, but he still couldn't move, or speak.

He felt weird, like what he figured being transported would feel like. He didn't remember walking, didn't remember moving, maybe he blacked out again? Maybe he was just so disoriented he had lost track of time? He opened his eyes, looked around the unfamiliar room, it appeared to be the surgery room. Or what was left of it. He was strapped to the old table. He hadn't investigated this room yet, wasn't sure what floor it was even on, or how he got strapped to the metal table.

He wasn't sure why he was strapped down, he hadn't been able to move… again, he wasn't sure how long it had been, then he realized, he was able to move his hands and feet, the rest of him, including his head, was strapped to the table.

"What's your worst fear?" the doctor asked.

"Go to hell!" Dean replied, realizing he was able to talk again.

The doctor placed his hands on the side of Dean's head again, causing Dean to groan in pain. He wasn't sure how much more he would be able to handle, but when asked again, he gave the same answer, receiving the same painful treatment.

He wanted it to stop but wasn't going to give some dead guy the satisfaction of receiving a truthful answer. Truth be known, Dean wasn't sure what his greatest fear was. He wasn't afraid of much, but at the same time there was plenty that filled him with fear. This moment in time, being no exception to the things that caused him fear. The pain overwhelming his body, he was sure, this time he did pass out.

Sam hurried as fast as he could, he was only gone for about 20 minutes. He rushed to the room he left Dean, finding the door wide open. But, Dean wasn't in there. Panic filled him when he couldn't find his brother. He rushed, being none too careful, entering and exiting every room on the floor in search of Dean, with no luck.

He decided to head upstairs, to the floor they hadn't been to yet. He looked, quickly through each room. He wasn't paying much attention to the things that were in the room. There were a few rooms, probably patient rooms. He went in and out of offices and treatment rooms, with no luck, he was calling for Dean while he searched and still hasn't been able to locate him.

Moving quickly two floors down, repeating the in and out of each room, no Dean. Panic was setting in, Sam wasn't sure when his hands had started shaking, his body trembling with fear. The tone in his voice started shaking, joining the reaction from the rest of his body. He quickly searched back through the main floor.

"DEAN!" was filling the silence, echoing through the halls as Sam searched. The only floor left was the basement. Sam knew Dean had an uneasy feeling about the basement from the first time they stepped foot in the building. Sam, a little more cautious, made his way into the basement.

He had found Dean's phone, flashlight, and EVP in the room he was left in, Sam knowing there was no point in trying to call him, and knew there would be no lights shining from any devices he may have. He slowed his rush, quieted his voice. He felt uneasy, he could feel the thickness in the air, it got thicker as he made his way down the hall.

"Dean? Dean?"

Sam was speaking loud enough he knew his brother could hear him but quiet enough it wasn't echoing.

The pressure in Dean's head kept him from hearing his brother. The doctor was doing something to him, he could tell, but he wasn't sure what. He was still feeling disoriented. He hadn't removed his hands from his head, the pain and pressure increasing with every moment.

Dean was trying to hold back the screams of pain. His teeth gritted together, moans and groans of pain quietly escaping. Until, it got too much, more than he could handle. It wasn't only the pain, with the pain came flashes of memories. Flashes of events that just happened to him and when they originally happened years ago. Flashes of words being yelled into his ears, hatred filling his head.

Dean screamed from the constant pain, the constant reminders of how crappy he felt his life was. Sam, heard the blood curdling scream. It didn't take him long to locate his brother after that. When he rounded the corner into the room, he saw the doctor, with his hands holding the sides of Dean's head. Dean was screaming in agony, strapped to the table.

Sam grabbed the shotgun and filled the doctor full of rock salt, causing him to vanish before running to Dean's side.

"Dean, Dean, are you alright?"

Sam was desperate to release his brother from the torture he just endured as he started to undo the straps. Dean was fully dressed, but Sam could still see some of the bruises left behind. His face was covered, with tear lines streaking down his cheeks. His hair appeared to have some blood splattered in it and was soaked with sweat. His wrists looked like they had been bound with rope, Sam knew from past conversations that was one thing Dean hated the most, being tied with ropes. Sam knew he didn't have time to check Dean's injuries.

"How did you end up here?"

Sam needed to get his brother back to reality so he spoke as he unstrapped him. Dean didn't answer. He wouldn't have had an answer even if he was able, but he wasn't able. His head was still full of pressure, and pain. His body ached from being attacked earlier. He wasn't sure how a memory, something a ghost created, could be so real, could actually be a real event that left his body feeling the injuries from it. Left him feeling violated.

How could he even begin to describe this to his brother? He was asking. Dean knew he was, he knew Sam well enough to know the mumbling he could hear through the pressure pushing against his ears, was Sam, asking him what had happened and if he was alright. No, no he wasn't alright. He just wanted to be left alone. He wanted the doctor to finish whatever creepy stuff he was doing and just end it all, end him, like he had done with so many other patients.

Dean jumped away when he felt Sam's hand wrap around his arm to pull him off the table. It surprised Sam, but when he looked into his brother's eyes, the expression on his face, he saw nothing but emptiness. He wasn't even sure if Dean knew where he was at. Sam noticed, the table he was on was covered in blood, not all of it from Dean, not fresh blood.

Sure, there was some fresh blood from where Dean was bleeding from the beatings and the rapes, but it was covered with streaks and splashes of old blood. Sam figured it was probably remains from the torture they inflicted on the patients that lived there. Sam hoisted Dean off the table and steadied him. He threw Dean's arm around his shoulders, placing his arms around Dean's back and stomach. He tried to get his brother to help him, but it didn't seem to be doing much good, Sam ended up practically dragging Dean up the steps.

He was hopeful that once he got his brother out of the building he would be okay. That he would snap out of whatever trance he was in. He made it to the top of the stairs before having to stop. The doctor was there again, not wanting to let Dean go.

"I have to finish his treatment. You can't take him, he has to stay here and finish his treatment." He insisted in an emotionless tone.

Sam filled him full of rock salt again, causing him to, once again, disappear. He pulled Dean off the ground, throwing him over his shoulder. Now that he was done with the stairs he could carry his brother instead of dragging him. He made it to the front doors. They wouldn't open. Someone, or something, was causing them to stay shut. Sam had a slight panic overcome him as he sat his brother against one of the doors.

"Dean, Dean… I need you to wake up man."

Dean had his eyes open, so he wasn't really asleep, but he wasn't really awake either.

"Dean, I need your help, man. Come on."

Sam gave his brother a few sharp shakes, bringing him out of his trance, not that it did any good. The only thing Dean could do was grab his head in pain. The high-pitched squeal was almost as bad as the pain. He noticed the pressure had lessened, not much, but a little was better than none at all. His vision was still blurry, but he could make out his brother's shape sitting in front of him.

He still couldn't completely understand what was being said. But, he knew Sam, and he knew he was scared, or worried, or both. He wasn't sure why, but he knew how Sam acted when he felt that way, and that's exactly how he was acting at this very moment. Dean reached one of his hands out, not sure if he was going to actually grab something or just find air. He ended up resting his hand on his brother's shoulder. It took some work, he was barely able to make out the one simple word he was trying to say.

"Sam?".

"Yeah, yeah, I'm right here, Dean, I'm right here, it's okay, I'm going to get you out of here."

Dean was able to understand the words a little better, but they were competing with the high-pitched squeals still filling his ears.

"Sam?" Dean repeated.

He had never sounded so weak, and Sam couldn't help but notice how confused he was, how he was not going to be able to help him out. Sam knew he was on his own trying to save his big brother. He tried the doors again, still no luck.

"Let us out of here you sick son of a bitch!" Sam yelled into the air. "He's not one of your patients! I won't let you do this to him! Let us out of here!"

There was no one around, but Sam knew that ghost had something to do with the doors not opening, and he knew he could hear him, even if he wasn't manifesting himself. After rechecking the doors and getting no reply, Sam continued desperately screaming into the empty space around him.

"What's a matter? Too scared to get full of rock salt again? Aww come on, you can't be scared of that! It's just a little salt, no one in their right mind would be scared of salt." Still no reply so he pushed harder. "Or are you scared of me? Or Dean? Is the big bad ghost scared of a little human?"

That got a reply. The doctor manifested right in front of Sam, sending him flying across the room, into the wall. He then bent down and placed his hands back on Dean's head. Dean shifted, groaning in pain.

"I'm losing him." The doctor sounded irritated. "I can't help him if I lose him. He can't leave. I told you I have to finish his treatment."

Sam didn't wait for an explanation, as soon as he was back on his feet he was filling the ghost full of more salt. Giving him the precious few seconds he needed to run into the door, pushing it opened and his brother falling out of it with him. He grabbed Dean by the collar and pulled him completely out of the building.

Wasting no time, he threw his brother back over his shoulder and hustled to the car. He knew they weren't safe, not yet. They still had to make it across the court yard and over the fence. He wasn't sure how he would get Dean over the fence. It was topped with a strand of barb wire. If he wasn't careful he would end up with more injuries than he already had.

Sam decided that was better than becoming another victim to the crazy ghost doctor. The further they got from the building, the more Dean seemed to come back around. He gave a few small groans, adjusting his body. Sam stopped once he got to the gate and sat his brother on the ground.

"Dean?"

Dean looked up at him. Sam couldn't help but feel relieved, it was the first time since he found him that he gave any type of response.

"Dean I gotta get you over the fence. I don't want you to get cut up, do you think you could help me?"

Dean still looked dazed. His eyes still empty and lost. Sam kept glancing behind them, making sure nothing supernatural was coming behind him, but he knew it was entirely possible for that ghost to come after them while they were still on the property. He didn't have time to wait for Dean to struggle for a response, which is what it appeared he was doing.

Dean fought to say a word, anything, or any movement. He couldn't even manage to nod his head. He wasn't sure what was going on, he just knew he felt paralyzed. Sam lifted him off the ground, steadying him on his feet the best he could, with his help of course. He took off his jacket, threw it over the fence, hoping it would help keep Dean from getting too cut up.

"If you don't help, this is gonna hurt like hell."

He informed Dean as he lifted his brother onto the fence, he could see a couple of the barbs dig into his skin, he knew it would cut him, but he didn't have much of a choice, once his brother was leaning over the fence, Sam gave him a push, causing him to crash to the ground with a grunt of pain. Damn, Sam hated doing that to him, but he knew he had to get him away from this place and didn't have any other option.

Sam quickly got himself over the fence, retrieved his jacket, being sure not to leave any personal evidence behind. And knelt at his brother's side. Dean seemed to be slightly more alert. The squelching in his ears stopped once he was on the other side of the fence. He could finally hear his brother clearly, or almost clearly. He was still having a hard time focusing on the words he was saying, but he didn't have a problem hearing them.

Dean gave a few slow blinks, trying to bring his view back into focus. The pressure in his head was almost gone, but he still had the worst headache of his life, not to mention the pain radiating through his body. Sam helped him off the ground, this time Dean was able to shuffle his feet along. He wasn't exactly walking, but he wasn't completely limp either. Sam would take it, he would take anything over the condition he found his brother in.

Carefully he helped him lay in the back seat before putting himself behind the wheel and making a B-line for Angel and Andrew's house. He called her, letting them know he had found Dean, that he wasn't sure what had happened but he wasn't in very good shape and they were on their way back.

Angel was prepared, waiting by the window for them to pull up. As soon as she saw the impala, she unbolted the door and ran out to help Sam get Dean into the house. She gasped when she saw him. Nothing that had run through her mind prepared her for this.

He was beaten and mentally destroyed. It didn't take a rocket scientist to notice the emptiness in his eyes. They got him inside the house and laid him on the couch. Sam instructed Andrew to lock the door and apply a new salt line, just in case.

"I haven't had time to exam his injuries yet."

Sam stated as Angel got some warm water and a couple rags. She knelt on the floor beside Sam, in front of the couch were Dean laid.

"I'll help." she stated as she rung the water out of one of the rags and began cleaning Dean's face, paying close attention to any lacerations that she came across.

"Hey, Andrew." Sam knew he needed something to do to keep his mind from going crazy. "In my bag upstairs, there's a first aid kit, will you get it for me? And anything you guys may have here as well?"

Andrew nodded his head and set out to gather any medical supplies he could locate. Once he returned, Sam got out his suture kit and started sewing closed a deep laceration that was across Dean's face. Angel dabbed cotton balls filled with alcohol on his smaller lacerations, being sure they were clean of anything that might cause an infection. She placed a couple small band aids on the places that were still bleeding.

Once they had finished his face, Sam gently lifted Dean to a seated position. Taking notice of the way, he tried to shift his body to avoid pain it was causing. Angel removed his jacket and all his shirts, exposing his bare chest. She quickly washed down his back, taking note of any injuries. There appeared to be mostly bruises and scratches covering his back. Nothing that needed any help to stop bleeding.

She did mention that he might have some fractured ribs, judging by the color and look of some of the bruises. Sam made a mental note of that and laid him, carefully, back on the couch. Dean seemed to untense with the change in position.

Wiping down his chest, neck, throat and arms they made notes of several bruises, only needing one laceration across his arm and one across his chest stitched. Sam quickly took care of those, closing them up, stopping bleeding and hopefully keeping them from scaring. Sam wrapped Dean's wrists in bandages. They looked raw, like he had been restrained by ropes and pulled hard on them, they looked painful.

Once they had finished that part of his body, Sam moved down, removing his boots and socks, then started undoing his pants. He wasn't especially thrilled about going under his brother's pants, but knew he needed to make sure he didn't have any serious injuries.

He started pulling his pants past his hips when Dean gave the first real reaction he had given since they started taking care of his injuries. He grabbed Sam's hands, giving them a death grip. Dean sounded horse, he could barely get the words out, they were quiet and forced.

"No, please, no, don't…. please, I can't, not again, not now, please."

Then all his energy was gone as he dropped his head back down and loosened his grip on his brother. Sam continued removing his pants. His heart had sunk, tears filled his eyes. He tried to talk to Dean, to reassure him he was safe as he removed his clothing.

"It's okay, Dean. It's me, Sam. It's okay, I'm not going to hurt you. I just gotta check for any injuries. You're safe now… no one here is going to hurt you, I prom…"

Sam's words were cut short. As he removed Dean's pants and noticed the streaks of blood that followed. The blood that had pooled the one place it shouldn't. Sam's sadness was now mixed with anger.

"That sick son of a bitch!" Sam mumbled under his breath.

Angel gasped, she wasn't quite sure what to do at that point. She wasn't sure how she was supposed to feel, or if she was supposed to feel anything. Because, right now, she didn't feel a damn thing, it was like her mind just went numb while the tears fell from her eyes.

Sam looked up at her then glanced to Andrew, who was also in a slight shock. 'damn' Sam thought to himself. He had to be strong, the other two weren't used to seeing anyone this injured, and to add rape on top of it, he knew he had to do what needed to be done, he had to take care of his brother no matter what.

Now, he understood why Dean reacted the way he did, why he tried to stop him. He thought someone was going to hurt him, rape him, again. Sam took the rag, cleaning the blood from his brother's legs, checking for injuries. There only appeared to be bruises on his legs, mostly between his thighs. 'sick son of a bitch' Sam repeated in his head as he pulled his brother's boxers off.

His stomach was bruised. It looked like one big bruise filled with different colors. It wasn't from the rape, it was from being beaten, but it didn't matter, he knew it hurt like hell, and if he had been there, he would have known the beating came after, causing the pain to his stomach to intensify. Sam cautiously made his way around Dean's hips, watching for any reaction out of Dean.

He asked Angel to help him roll him onto his side, so he can clean the blood off and make sure he wasn't still bleeding. 'That's an awful lot of blood' he thought to himself. When they rolled him, his greatest fear was revealed. Dean was still bleeding. Sam didn't know how to fix that. It was internal, from the severity of the tearing, he figured he would clean him the best he could, put some padding there, for both comfort and to catch the blood, and hope for the best.

Once he was done, he left his brother undressed, figured it would be more comfortable. Andrew made sure the fire was going strong, keeping Dean warm, Sam was concerned about blood loss and him getting too cold. They covered him with some soft, warm blankets, hoping it wouldn't feel too harsh on his delicate skin.

Sam couldn't believe it, he just couldn't. Why did his brother have to keep getting hurt? Why couldn't life give him a break? Just for once, why couldn't Dean Winchester have a day that he could live as the super hero he was? Sam told Angel and Andrew they needed to get some sleep, there wasn't anything else they could do right now, they needed to let Dean rest.

Sam informed them he would be staying downstairs with Dean. Angel brought him some blankets and a pillow, making him promise to wake her if he needed her. He agreed, thankful he would have help if needed. He had never seen his brother so broken. He wasn't sure what he was going to be facing when he woke up. He wasn't sure what had happened in the short 20 minutes he had been gone. He had noticed the injuries Dean had, seemed like they would have taken much longer to acquire, but Sam was sure of the time he was gone, he had kept an eye on the time.

He put himself in the most comfortable position he could manage in the chair, wrapping himself into the blankets. He had himself turned so he was facing the couch, he would be right there if Dean needed him. From where he laid he could keep an eye on his brother, he would be the first to notice any sign of distress, or any sign of him pulling himself back around, waking up.

He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he also knew he needed to at least try. But, he couldn't, not without knowing Dean was okay, and right now he didn't know if he was or not.


	14. Chapter 14

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 14

"SAM! SAMMY!"

Sam hadn't realized he had drifted off. His brother was restless, he was asleep, but Sam could tell his mind was working overtime and his body kept shifting, trying to keep the pain at a tolerable level. Sam had jumped awake when Dean screamed his name, rushing to his side.

"Hey Dean, hey, it's alright." He tried to soothe his brother.

Dean bolted awake with his brother's touch. He was sitting halfway up, his arms behind him, his elbows bent, holding up his body. Sam was sure he would have been sitting all the way up if not for the injuries to his body. His body was trembling, the emptiness that had been in his eyes was replaced with fear.

At first, he didn't acknowledge that Sam was beside him, he couldn't hear him talking to him, slowly, over the matter of seconds, but what seemed like minutes to Dean, he became more aware of his surroundings. He was able to hear his brother, and with each passing second, he gathered the ability to comprehend what he was saying.

"It's okay, Dean. I'm right here, it's going to be alright. You're safe now. I got you big brother, it's okay."

Dean relaxed, knowing his brother was there, and allowed himself to slip back down into a laying position. His breathing was still heavy, his heart racing, and body filled with trembles, but he was beginning to calm from whatever fear, or nightmare, had woken him.

"You okay now?"

Dean wasn't able to answer, still trying to calm himself. Sam began stroking Dean's hair, he had beads of sweat on his forehead that had strands of his hair stuck to them. When Sam reached to push his hair back, Dean jumped, like he was going to hurt him, like he was afraid of anyone touching his head.

Sam noticed the sides of his head, at his temples, had begun forming bruises. Bruises that weren't there when he first looked over his injuries. He figured, just from what he had witnessed, that the ghost doctor caused them when he had his hands on his head, while strapped to that old metal table.

Dean closed his eyes, his headache was still there, but thankfully, the pressure was gone. He reached up with a trembling hand and rubbed at where the bruise had formed on one side of his head. He didn't seem to have the strength to rub his own head, not at the moment, but Sam could tell it was bothering him, that he had a headache in that spot, probably both sides he figured.

Sam continued to give his brother calming, reassuring words as he took both hands and rubbed the sides of Dean's head. Dean closed his eyes once he realized Sam wasn't going to hurt him, instead the light pressure from his rubs were helping ease the pain. Dean was still confused, he could remember some things, but wasn't entirely sure what had happened. Really, he wasn't sure if his memories were old memories or new ones.

Keeping his eyes closed, trying to hold back the pain that started radiating through his body, bringing back his senses, 'yeah the old memories are new memories, that's more like it' he thought to himself.

"Sam?"

Dean sounded horse, he sounded like he had been yelling for hours, he knew he hadn't but it didn't change the way his voice sounded, or the way his throat felt. His throat was dry, and sore. His single, broken word got his brother's attention. He looked up at Dean, he couldn't see Sam look at him, his eyes were closed, but he could feel it. He knew him well enough, he knew what it felt like when his brother would look at him.

"W… what h…happened?"

Dean was barely able to make out the words. He opened his eyes, like he needed to see his brother's response to his question. He needed to be able to tell how bad he was, he could tell by the expression on Sam's face that he wasn't completely sure what had happened.

"I don't know." Sam said as he removed his hands from Dean's head and shifted himself to a more comfortable position on the floor. "What do you remember?"

"I… I'm not sssure."

Dean managed to get the words out before they were followed by a cough. Sam got his brother a glass of water to help moisten his throat. Dean gladly accepted it, taking too big of a drink causing him to choke a little. Once he was satisfied that he wasn't going to cough anymore, he attempted his voice once again.

He was pleased that it seemed to work a little better. The words had seemed to get stuck in his throat, the water helped them ease out of his mouth better than before.

"It… it was like… I can't really explain it. It felt like hours, or maybe days? I'm not really sure."

"Dean, I was only gone for 20 minutes, when I returned, you were gone, the door to the room was wide opened. I searched for you, found you in the basement, it took me about another 20 minutes to find you, that place is so damn big! So, in total, it was less than an hour."

Dean seemed shocked. He was sure it had been longer than that.

"I promise you, Dean. It may have seemed longer to you, but in real time, it was only about 40 minutes. That ghost doctor, I think he did something to your head, he very well could have made time seem different, somehow." Sam added that last part, hoping to help his brother feel less unsure of himself.

"Yeah, he did something to my head alright." Dean mumbled.

He hadn't meant to say that out loud, it was really more of a thought.

"Dean, you're… you've got some pretty serious injuries, man. I know… I know some shit went down, but…"

Dean cut him off midsentence. "Sam, don't, please just don't."

Dean closed his eyes for an extra-long blink. He was still trying to process everything in his head, he wasn't sure how he would be able to even begin to answer any of Sam's questions if he couldn't understand it himself. He looked into his brother's eyes, seeing the sadness that filled them. The sadness he was holding on to, the sadness for Dean.

"Damn it!" Dean mumbled, again an outward thought that he didn't mean to say. "Sammy, look… I… I don't understand it myself. I'm not really sure what the hell happened. Okay? I don't know what to tell you. I… I know, somehow… he… he managed to get into my head. He like, soaked up my thoughts, my memories, through his hands. He knew what made me scared. He knew what hurt me the most, and… he used it… it was like… everything from my life, everything that… hurt… it all happened, again… but, it was like, all at one time."

It was too fresh, too hard to talk about. "I remember him saying he was going to help me, he was going to make it better. I know there was a shit ton of pressure in my head. It felt like my head was literally going to explode, and the non-stop squealing and the pain… god, the headache… it's like the worst headache you could possibly imagine."

Dean absent mindedly rubbed at his temple again. "Yeah, he did something to my head, that's for sure, I just don't understand what."

"Does it still hurt?" Sam asked, pointing to Dean's head, to the spot he was rubbing.

Dean dropped his hand. "Yeah, yeah it does, not as bad, but it's still there."

Dean attempted to sit up, forgetting about his injuries. He quickly wished he hadn't, he wished he would have stayed laying down. He forgot how bad this hurt. He didn't want Sam to know the pain he was in, so he opted out of laying back down once he was sitting.

He knew Sam knew, he knew Sam had taken care of his injuries, all of them. He wasn't dressed and had stitches placed where they were needed. He was thankful his brother was so good with the medical stuff. Dean allowed his head to fall backwards, landing on the back of the couch with a groan of pain.

"Dean, you okay?" Sam asked, moving himself from the floor to a seated position on the couch beside his brother.

Dean just nodded. He didn't want to give a verbal answer, he was afraid the pain would overtake his voice.

"Hey, Dean, why don't you lay back down?"

Dean just nodded his head. "I need a shower." he forced out.

He was beginning to feel the humiliation sweep back over him. He remembered all the men that visited him, even if it was just in his head, he could still feel it in his body. He felt the remains of them sticking to his insides. Everything seemed to be intensified. Like it wasn't real, but was all too real at the same time. He just wanted to feel clean, wanted to wash the filth off of him. He tried to stand but was quickly stopped by the pain that pierced through his body.

"Okay." Sam replied, he understood, he had seen his brother's injuries. "Let me help you, okay?"

Dean didn't have much of a choice, he nodded his head, wrapping the blanket around himself.

"I think the bathroom is small enough, once you get in there you'll be okay alone." Sam stated as he helped his brother limp to the bathroom. "I'll go get you some clean clothes while you shower, okay?"

Dean just nodded his head, thankful his brother was so willing to help him, even if it was embarrassing. Sam hadn't said anything about Dean's injuries, nothing about the sexual assaults that he knew Sam knew about. Dean wasn't ready to talk about that yet. He was thankful Sam understood.

Once Dean was in the bathroom, Sam left him alone. Dean removed the blanket and looked at himself in the mirror. His body was covered with bruises and lacerations. He examined his legs and the inside of his thighs. Memories came flooding back, causing the pain in his head to intensify.

He grabbed his head with a gasp, backing into the wall, holding his position until the pain died back down to a level he was able to tolerate. He turned the water on and stepped into the shower. He made the shower hotter than he would normally like it, but he felt like he needed it hot, he had a lot of grime that needed to be washed off. He had other people he needed to wash off.

The thought of that, sent him tumbling to his knees and what little contents were in is stomach came spewing out and washed down the drain with the water. He hated this feeling, more than anything. He would take getting the hell beat out of him any day over this. He heard Sam slip the door open then closed again. He knew he laid his clothes in there for him. Again, he was thankful his brother was so understanding.

Dean scrubbed himself until he felt like there was nothing left, he felt like he had scrubbed the skin off his body. He still didn't feel clean, but the water was getting cold, he was getting cold, starting to shiver. He turned the water off, leaning his hands against the wall, stopping to breath before stepping out of the shower. He dried himself off and slipped into his clothes. Once again, thankful for Sam's understanding.

He had given him a pair of boxers, socks, sweatpants, a t-shirt and a hoodie to put on. They had been down this road before, Sam knew it would be too painful for Dean to wear his jeans right now. After finishing getting dressed he stepped out of the bathroom, everyone was awake at this point.

Dean realized he had been in the shower for a while. No one said anything, no one knocked on the door or asked him to hurry. They were sitting around the table, Angel had made them breakfast. Sam jumped up and hurried to his brother's side, helping him make his way across the room. Dean didn't argue, he knew he could have done it by himself, but honestly, the extra help helped keep the pain level down.

"Where you wanna go to?" Sam asked.

He didn't figure Dean wanted to sit at the table, he was afraid the chairs would be too hard. He was relieved when Dean said he wanted to go back to the couch. He helped his brother onto the couch. Dean had leaned against the arm of the couch, putting himself more on his side than a seated position, he pulled his feet onto the couch, pulling his knees up to his chest. He looked defeated.

He had rolled himself into a ball, grabbing a cover and putting it over his body. Sam couldn't help but think that his brother appeared to be trying to hide himself. Angel brought him a tray with his breakfast on it.

"Thanks." Dean replied, but he didn't feel much like eating.

"You need to try to eat something." Angel replied. She grabbed a garbage can and placed it on the other side of Dean. "Just in case." she said, giving him a smile of understanding. "But, you at least need to try." she added, giving his shoulder a small rub before returning to the kitchen.

Dean knew she was right. He needed something in his stomach. Vomiting was his biggest concern and Angel had understandably taken care of that for him. He figured he had no excuse not to eat at least something. He started with the toast, figuring it would be the easiest on his stomach. He ate at it slowly, making sure to keep it down after each bite, halfway into his first piece he lost his battle, emptying it into the can Angel sat beside him.

Before he was finished emptying his stomach she was back at his side. She started rubbing her hand across his back, gently, not applying much pressure, she was being careful not to cause pain with all the bruising and injuries he had.

"It's okay, Dean." She reassured him. "It's going to happen. It's okay. When you're done, you need to try to eat again. Your stomach won't feel so queasy this time. You just gotta get all the jitters out of it. It'll be okay. You'll be okay."

Dean nodded. He wasn't sure how to reply to her. He wasn't used to someone who understood so much. Everyone had finished eating, Sam and Andrew were cleaning the dishes, Angel remained with Dean.

Dean had eaten the other half of his toast, slowly, again, trying to make sure each bite stayed where it belonged.

"Hey, Angel." Dean said softly.

He needed to take a break from eating, let his stomach settle some before attempting the second piece of toast. He had made it clear he wasn't interested in any of the other food, he felt the toast was going to be good enough until his stomach settled.

Angel had looked up at him. She was sitting on the floor in front of him, rubbing her hand on various spots on his body, she had stopped her hand when he spoke to her, it was currently rubbing small circles on his leg.

"It… he… the doctor that locked me in the room… or at least the one who appeared when the door was shut, the one who… who made everything happen and… and… I don't know what the hell he did to my head, but he did something… he… I didn't recognize him at first, but when he removed his mask from his face… he was wearing a doctor's surgical mask, when he removed it, I recognized him from the pictures on your fireplace."

Dean was trying hard to explain the best he could, but he was finding it hard, for several reasons, this wasn't a conversation he was wanting to have.

"I'm sorry." He continued, "It was your dad."

Angel's head dropped, not that she cared if the man was dead or alive, but just hearing that he was a ghost, she knew it only meant one thing. But, she was more upset that her father had hurt Dean the way he did. Dean knew Angel knew what that meant, but he still felt the need to explain it to her.

"He's a ghost, that only means one thing. I'm sorry."

Sam and Andrew had entered the living room by now, hearing the conversation taking place.

"Good." Andrew replied, getting Dean's attention.

Dean shot his head up, glancing at Andrew, who was standing in a defensive stance, he was glad the man was dead.

Dean continued, "Since he's still there, either his body is somewhere in that building, or he's attached to some possession that's there. Right now, it's hard to say. But, I think, maybe, the room I got locked in was your mom's. I think that's why he was there, maybe he's still attached to her somehow? I'm not sure, I can't be sure of anything right now, but it's the best thing I can figure right now."

"I'm sorry." Angel said, getting a much-deserved confused look from Dean.

"For what?"

"That my father hurt you, like he did me."

Dean's heart sank. He couldn't believe she was thinking that. He didn't exactly hurt him. Well, he may have been the cause for everything that happened, but it wasn't him, not really. But, it didn't matter. She had nothing to apologize for. It wasn't like it was her fault. None of this was her fault.

"Hey." He lifted her face to look at him. "There's nothing to be sorry for, you hear me? Nothing."

She nodded her head as the tears started slipping from her eyes. He guided her unto the couch beside him, shifting his body so he could be closer to her. He wrapped his arms around her and held her tightly. He rested his head on the top of hers while she kept her face buried in his chest.

"Dean?" Andrew had sat in a chair and started speaking in a low, questioning tone.

Dean glanced over at him, waiting for him to ask what was on his mind.

"I… I didn't know, I mean, I always thought…."

He was finding it hard to say what he wanted, he wasn't used to talking to other people this much. Dean knew this, and understood, he waited patiently for Andrew to be able to complete what he was trying to say.

"I just thought… rape… it was just a girl thing? But, sissy said that's why you were bleeding so much. I… I don't really understand."

Andrew was truly innocent. He was only trying to understand what was going on. Everyone was trying to process it, but everyone else understood, Andrew, he didn't.

Dean was sure his face turned red. He was sure every muscle in his body tensed. He didn't want to have this conversation, but knew he couldn't avoid it. He also knew that his brother, and Angel, were there to help him through it. He knew Andrew needed to know, he needed to understand. Dean cleared his throat and took a second to think of the words to say before he started speaking.

"No, it's not." He said before clearing his throat again. "It's… it's more accepted… I guess is the word you could use? If a guy… um… forces a woman to have sex with him."

"You mean rape?" Andrew asked, his innocence still just as strong as ever.

"Yeah." Dean replied, he was finding that word a little difficult to use, but knew he had to force it out, for Andrew's sake. "Yeah rape."

He finally forced it out. "Anyhow, the world, it's a crazy place, and people, they're complicating. And, people like to think of things as being nice and pretty. Like butterflies and rainbows, everywhere. See, most people can't see past themselves. They don't see what's really going on in the world. They don't see the struggles and hurt that other people may be having."

Dean's voice was trembling slightly. "And, those types of people, they find it easier to accept a guy… raping… a girl… it's not as 'nice', 'pretty', to think of a guy… raping… another guy. It's more violent."

Dean stopped for a moment to catch his thoughts, to make sure Andrew was following along with what he was saying. Dean had started stuttering so he needed to pause, then continued.

"But, yes, it happens to other guys. More than what the world wants you to believe. See, people, they try to sexualize everything, and it's not easy to make the thought of a violent rape sexy. It's not 'normal' to the human mind. It's just one of those nasty things the world tries to cover up, tries to hide. Which, makes it that much more difficult for those who have been in that situation."

Dean had to pause to calm his thoughts again. "The 'normal' people out there, the ones living the apple pie life, they can't… well they can, but… they don't feel as comfortable coming forward or seeking help when… when they get raped. But, it happens, a lot. More than what it should. There's more human monsters in this world than the supernatural kind."

Dean noticed the look on Andrew's face, and his heart dropped into his stomach. "Andrew?" he was hesitant, didn't want to ask because he really didn't want to know the answer. He knew what the answer was already. "Have you… have you… uh… have you ever been in that situation? Has someone hurt you like that?"

Andrew sat quietly, and nodded his head.

Angel had turned her head when the conversation started, watching her brother but leaving her head pressed against Dean's chest. Dean felt her body tense and heard her gasp. Dean tightened his grip on her, calming her, keeping her from over reacting. His way of telling her he has it under control.

"Who?" Dean asked, glancing over at Sam to see his reaction then back to Andrew. "Who hurt you?" Dean repeated.

Andrew was scared to answer. "They told me if I said anything, that they would rape my sister too."

"Hey, Andrew, it's okay to tell us. No one is going to hurt your sister, not as long as I'm here, I'll make sure of that, okay?" He still seemed hesitant to answer so Dean added, "They don't even have to know you said anything. No one has to know you told us."

Andrew nodded his head and began to speak. He was speaking to Dean, like no one else was in the room. "You don't know them. They were these boys I went to school with. They were always mean to me. Called me a freak all the time. Said hateful things about my mom and my sister. Said there was something wrong with me, that I should have been locked up with Mom."

He started to cry, wiping his tears with his shirt sleeve. "About a year ago, I was walking in town, and they saw me. I tried to avoid them, I really did. But, they pushed me into an alley, told me what a freak I was. They… they told me how bad I was, what a screw up I am and that I didn't even deserve to be alive. They pushed me around."

He lowered his head, he wasn't able to look at anyone. "I remember hearing them all laughing. I know, I should have been able to fight my way away from them, there was only 3 of them, but the thing is, I don't fight. I didn't know what they were doing, why they pulled my pants down, why they were holding me down and covering my mouth. It hurt. It hurt really bad. I started crying and trying to scream."

Shame filled him. "I didn't try to scream for help, I knew no one would help me, I was trying to scream because it hurt so bad. They told me that's the way freaks get treated. That… that was my punishment for being such a screw up in life. They told me I should just go kill myself and save everyone the trouble of having to look at me. That everyone would know I was a freak, they said… they said they marked me… that everyone would know I've been marked and I couldn't hide anymore."

Andrew had started sobbing. Angel pushed away from Dean to comfort her brother.

"That was the last time you left the house?" Her voice so saddened.

Andrew just nodded his head and embraced his sister's hug. Sam and Dean locked eyes for a moment. Dean wasn't sure what to say. What to do. He was in the same spot. He couldn't try to convince him it would be okay. That would have to be Angel or Sam's job. There was no way Andrew would believe him, not when Dean couldn't even believe it himself. He couldn't tell someone else they would be okay when he wasn't sure that he would be okay.


	15. Chapter 15

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 15

"Do you want to upstairs and talk in private?" Angel had asked Andrew, he was still sobbing was nodded his head yes.

She helped her brother to stand, keeping both of her arms wrapped around him they started exiting the living room.

"We'll be back." she said as they walked past Dean.

"I'm sorry." Dean mouthed, without saying the words.

Angel didn't have time to reply, Andrew had kept walking, not looking at Dean, and she wanted to stay by his side. She figured she'd talk to Dean about it later. She knew he had nothing to apologize for. She was actually thankful. She was thankful that Dean had the courage to help her brother understand what had happened, to both of them. She was thankful Dean was able to get that information out of him, something Angel never knew about, but now that she did, it all made perfect sense to her.

Dean could feel the uneasiness in his stomach grow. His head starting to feel like it was swimming again, causing the nausea to build. Angel and Andrew barely made it up the stairs before Dean jumped from the couch. He had planned on making it to the bathroom, a plan that was quickly shot down the moment he stood. He dropped to his knees, emptying what little his stomach held, into the trash can.

Sam was by his side in an instant, knelt on the floor beside him. There was no point in him being there, but he felt better letting his brother know he was there for him if he needed, and for moral support if nothing else. Without lifting his head from the can, Dean reached up and grabbed a fist full of Sam's shirt. Sam could feel Dean's hand trembling, his breathing was increasing, becoming labored, as he finished emptying his stomach, followed by some dry heaving.

Once he was finished, he took his free arm and wrapped it around his stomach. He rocked himself backwards against the couch, closing his eyes as tight as he could, his jaw equally as tight. A groan of pain escaping his lips. He tightened his grip on Sam's shirt.

"Sammy." Dean mumbled through his locked jaw. "Something's wrong, Sammy. Something doesn't feel right."

He followed his words with another groan of pain, causing him to double over, then fall to his side on the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest, trying to roll himself into a tight ball. He knew the pain. It was pain from where something, or someone, was forced so far inside him that his abdomen was suffering from the invasion, from the forced injury.

But, why now? Why had it just started? Was it just in his head? Dean couldn't think straight, his head felt like it was still swimming. The sounds in his ears being muffled like he was under water. The pain in his head was back, and it was back with a vengeance. Dean cried out in pain, refusing to let go of Sam's shirt, if anything he was tightening his grip even harder, twisting the fabric into his fist. He needed his brother, he needed to know something was real. He needed the reassurance that not everything was just in his head.

"Sammmm!"

Dean didn't know what to do, he didn't know what was going on, all he knew was he was in a ton of pain and wanted it to stop. He knew his brother was there, and his brother was always all he ever needed. Sam wasn't sure what to do either. He rubbed Dean's back, then changed to his head when he saw Dean try to pull his hand from his stomach, touch his head, then wrap it back around his stomach.

"Dean, Dean it's going to be alright."

He tried to reassure him, but Dean only heard mumbling that he couldn't understand.

"You have to let it pass, it'll pass, just hang on." Sam assured him.

He wanted to put his brother on the couch, he wanted him to be more comfortable, but he didn't dare move him. Sam stayed by his brother's side, listening to his cries of unbearable pain, and the repeated calls of his name, until the pain started letting up. It was a slow process, it seemed to take forever for it to pass. Angel had come back downstairs, she had finished her talk with her brother and found Dean laying on the floor in undeniable pain.

"Sam? What happened?" she asked in shock.

"I don't know." Sam replied. "He started vomiting then collapsed in pain, it seems to be getting a little better." He looked up at Angel with pleading eyes as he continued. "I… I don't know what to do. I don't know what's wrong with him."

Angel knelt beside Sam, placing her hand on his back. "You look like you're doing a good job to me." She said softly, "sometimes when you don't know what to do, just being there is good enough. And, judging by the grip he has on you, that's exactly what he needs, for you to just be here."

She finished by giving him a slight smile, Sam smiled back. He knew she was right, everything they had been through in life, in the end all they ever needed was each other and they knew they could make it through anything.

Dean had never been so relieved as he was when the pain became a dull ache. He never wanted to feel anything that intense again. He couldn't explain it. Wasn't even sure if it was real or some phantom ghost thing. The day was wearing thin. It had been an emotional day for everyone. Dean was still feeling weak, still feeling the aches and pains from the abuse his body had taken.

Andrew reappeared from upstairs and sat on the couch beside Dean. Dean, being, the big brother he was, sat from his leaning position, wrapped an arm around Andrew's back.

"Feeling better, kiddo?" Dean asked, getting a nod out of Andrew.

"Thank you." He finally replied.

Dean pulled him closer, embracing him into a tight hug for a moment before removing his hand from his back.

"Are we going back?" Andrew asked, taking all of them by surprise.

"What?" Sam asked in shock.

"Are we going back, to the sanitarium, tonight?" Andrew repeated, clarifying what he meant.

"Um... Uh..." was all Sam managed to get out, looking over at Dean, before Andrew interrupted.

"You said, last night, when you brought us back, that we were going back tonight, you said we had to come back so you could get Dean out of that room, and make sure everyone was safe. Well, he's out and we are all safe, so, are we going back like you promised?"

Sam wasn't sure how to answer that, he looked at Angel for help, then looked back at Dean to see his reaction, he could judge his brother's thoughts by his reactions.

"Uh," Dean started, "Look, I'm not sure if it's safe."

"But Sam promised!" Andrew repeated.

"I'm not sure if I ever used the word 'promise'" Sam replied, getting a hateful glance from Andrew.

"Hey, don't you think it's been a hard enough day for everyone?" Angel asked, trying to make her brother understand.

"But, Sam said we were going back!" Andrew said hatefully.

He wasn't going to accept any other answer. Dean glanced at the others, they were concerned for Dean, hell, Dean was concerned for Dean.

"Look," Dean spoke, looking at everyone one in the room, being sure they were listening to what he was saying. "The place isn't safe. I'm beginning to understand the disappearances that have been happening. But, we all have a job to do. I did promise Angel we would try to figure out what happened to her parents, and Sam and I still have to stop whatever is causing the place to be unsafe. I don't know if it's that doctor, your dad, or someone else. I'm pretty sure that's who it is, but even if it is, we still have to find what his spirit is attached to and get rid of it. If we go back…"

He paused, feeling the fear rise in him. "If we go back, we ALL have to stay together, you hear me?" he made sure Andrew was listening to him. "You can't get scared, or creeped out, or sense something and just run off. We have to stay together. All of us. No one enters or exits a room without the entire group being together."

Everyone nodded, agreeing with what he was saying. "We start in the room that we stopped in. There's something special about that room, something that brought the doctor in there. Then, Sam said the offices are upstairs, so we move upstairs and find his office, after that, we go to the basement, if we still need to. If we haven't found what we are looking for we go to the basement."

Fear had risen inside of him. He had hoped they didn't need to go to the basement, but knew he was probably wrong. "I don't think the treatment rooms upstairs is going to hold anything. If so, he would have taken me there. I think there's probably a link to him and that old surgery room. And, if we still don't find what we are looking for, depending on how long that takes, we either make another plan or come back here, regroup, and hit it again tomorrow night. Deal?"

Dean making sure everyone understood and was on the same page as he was.

"Dean, are you sure you're up to this?" Sam asked, concerned for his brother's mental and physical wellbeing.

"Look, I'm fine Sammy, I can handle whatever, and if anyone needs to separate, for any reason, it's going to be me. I've already experienced his crap. I don't want anyone else to have to go through what I did."

He looked straight as Sam. "If I have to separate from the group, YOU are to make sure they get out of there. I think, honestly, once they are on the other side of the fence they should be safe, but, you can bring them back here if you prefer, it doesn't matter, just as long as you come back for me."

His eyes moving back and forth between everyone in the group again. "Everyone got it?"

They all agreed.

Sam wasn't happy with it, but he understood what Dean was saying. They had to make sure Angel and Andrew stayed safe and if anyone had to sacrifice themselves to do that, it needed to be the person who had already faced the fear, the person who was already damaged. They didn't need both of them messed up in the head.

Honestly, Sam knew Dean was stronger than he was when it came to things like that. Sam wasn't sure if he'd be able to make it through everything Dean has had to face. With everyone in agreeance, and the sun going down, they drove to the building, gathering what they needed from the trunk, making sure everything had fresh batteries.

They climbed the fence, the same as before, and started making their way across the court yard toward the building. Dean, not noticing, reached out and grabbed his brother's shirt, making sure he was still there, still real. Sam felt his hand trembling in his shirt. He slowed for a moment, placing himself beside his brother.

"You okay?"

Dean realized he was holding onto Sam's shirt and quickly released it, nodding his head in response.

"It's going to be okay" Sam whispered to Dean before they entered the building.

Dean pushed his way to the front, heading up the stairs first, Sam remained in the back, keeping an eye on the other two. They made their way to the room that had caused Dean so much anguish. He entered it first, his body trembling, fear striking him hard, everyone else stayed close, just like Dean instructed. He didn't walk around the room like he did before, he remained right beside everyone else.

Andrew, the first time, had been too afraid to enter the room, but knew he didn't have a choice now. If he refused to enter they would have aborted their mission and left. Dean made that very clear. He was not going to have anyone else hurt, not on his watch. Angel had started going through things in the room. Dean's intuition had been right, this was their mother's room. Angel found pictures of her and Andrew when they were younger. She was lost in her own mind, lost in the things she had found. There were letters written to them, letters from their mom, letters that were never sent and never received. Dean wanted to let her have her moment, but also knew how unsafe this room was. He knelt down beside her.

"Hey, we need to hurry, before this room becomes a danger again, gather what you want, once we stop the danger, you can return anytime you want."

Angel nodded and started gathering her mom's belongings.

"I told you, you belonged here."

The voice of the doctor came from the doorway of the room. Fear filled every inch of Dean's body, instantly grabbing his attention. Sam had filled him with a bullet filled with rock salt before he was able to say anything else.

"Come on, guys. Hurry up." Sam called out.

Angel worked faster on gathering her mother's things.

"I told you, you needed to finish your treatment, you can't leave here until you're finished."

The voice was back, this time he was inside the room, with them. Dean couldn't take the chance. He couldn't let anyone get hurt.

"You want me?" Dean asked as he took slow steps backwards, toward the door.

The doctor followed.

"Then come and get me!"

Dean stepped out of the room with his arms spread wide open. The doctor lunged toward him, once he was out of the room, away from the others Sam shot another bullet, making him disappear again.

"Upstairs, NOW!" Dean shouted.

They all assumed their positions, Dean in the front, Sam in the back, and made their way upstairs. It didn't take them long to find his office. The name was still on the plaque on the door. "Dr. M. Warner" Dean was hesitant on going inside, but knew he didn't have a choice.

"Everyone stay together." Dean reminded them.

They had started separating, looking through different things in the room before Dean could stop them.

"You have to finish your treatment." The voice was back.

"Son of a bitch! You don't ever give up do you?" Dean asked the ghost that was again in front of him.

Before Sam was able to get a shot off, he had his hands on both sides of Dean's head, covering his temples. Instant pain shot through his body. His face drew up, slamming his eyes shut and locking his jaw, moans of pain being released. Sam shot, making him disappear again. Dean dropped to his knees, throwing his hands up and grabbing the sides of his own head, cries of pain still coming from him. His head felt like it was on fire, a fire that sent needles down his spine and through his arms and legs.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean said angerly. "God, that hurts like a bitch!" he added as the pain started to ease up.

Sam remained by his side, ordering the other two to finish looking for what they needed while he took care of Dean. Dean reached out, grabbing Sam by the shirt, pulling him close.

"Don't. let. Him. touch. Them." Dean said slow and clear, his voice still full of panic and pain. He said it quite enough that the others couldn't hear him.

"I won't." Sam replied, helping Dean to his feet.

"You have to finish your treatment!" the voice was back.

Dean rolled his eyes. "He's never going to give up." he said to Sam. Grabbing a shotgun that was loaded with rock salt. "Watch out for them, take care of them, find what the hell we need to get rid of this son of a bitch." He grabbed the gun and turned toward the doctor, slowly making his way out of the room. "You want me? Huh? You, sick son of a bitch."

"Dean! Dean don't!" Sam tried to stop him but knew it was no use.

Dean exited the room, the doctor following him. Dean keeping the shotgun aimed at the doctor as he led him away from the others.

"I told you, you can't leave until your treatment is complete. You have to finish your treatment." The voice repeated.

"Yeah? And, what exactly does my treatment include?"

"I'll make you better. You want to be better, don't you?"

"Make me better how?"

Dean was making his way down the hall to the stairs, he wasn't sure why, but he wanted to lead him back to the basement, back to the surgery room he had taken him to the first time. He was moving slow, keeping a conversation with him, his intent was to give the others as much time as they needed, keeping the ghost away from them, and trying to keep himself safe in the process. He figured if he kept his attention with conversation he wouldn't want to change his attention to anyone else.

"Make the memories go away." The voice answered. "You want to be better, don't you? You have to finish your treatment."

"Yeah, you keep saying that. How the hell do you expect my memories to go away? You gonna just wipe my mind or something?"

"You have to let me finish your treatment. You'll feel better when you're done."

"Yeah, I'm sure. I'm sure I'd feel more like a vegetable. Is that what you told all your patients? That they would feel better? Is that what you told your wife, Elizabeth?"

The voice hissed in anger, his expression changing to one of hatred. "You're going to get it worse. Worse than she ever did. The stupid bitch wouldn't finish her treatment. I had to make her do them. I made sure it hurt, just like it's going to hurt you." And with a fling of his wrist he caused Dean to fly down the stairs he was walking down, slowly. Causing him to fall hard against the ground. Pain, once again filling his body.

"Dean!" he heard Sam shout.

Before Dean was able to respond to anything that had just happened. The doctor was on top of him, his hands pressed against the sides of his head, this time was worse than any other time. The pain was unbearable. Dean felt paralyzed, like the doctor was holding his entire body down, unable to move a muscle. All he could do was scream, and scream he did! The pain intensified, causing his screams to become louder, filled with more pain. The next thing he knew, he had a hard stinging to his chest. Sam rushed by his side.

"Sorry, man, sorry."

"Son of a bitch!" Dean said as he rolled to his side, curling himself into a ball. "You shot me!"

"I had to, I had to stop him, that was the only way I could, it went through him and hit you, I'm sorry, but, he's gone, he's gone for now, Dean, I think we need to get out of here."

Sam was more concerned about Dean's well-being at that point than anything else. The other two agreed, for everyone's safety they should leave. Angel had gathered several things she could look through once back at the home.

Dean rolled himself over, pushing himself on his hands and knees, then sitting on his knees while his head settled.

"No." He replied. "We need to finish this."

"Dean." Sam tried to protest, but Dean stopped him.

"Look, I can't do this again, man, I can't. There's no way I can leave and come back. We need to finish this, and finish it now, tonight… or never."

Dean's voice told Sam he was serious, no matter what happened, they had to finish it. "You probably need to get those two to safety." He added, pointing back at Angel and Andrew. They had heard everything their ghost dad had said about their mom. Angel had tears dripping down her face, Andrew's expression was pure terror.

"I… I can get us out on my own." Angel said, but Dean would have nothing to do with that. He didn't want to leave them alone, not even for a moment. But, Sam didn't want to leave Dean alone either.

"Okay." Sam spoke up. "We go back down, one more floor, to ground level. We follow you two to the door, I'll stay inside, with Dean, but keep the door opened, my gun pointed your way, to stop anything that might come at you. I don't think anything will. I think you should be safe once you're outside, but just in case, you take a gun with you too. Once you make it to the car, I want you to go, just leave, go home. Look through the papers you got, if you think there's anything that will help us, call. Otherwise, we'll call you when we are done here, or when we need you to come back, either way, I don't want you coming back until we call. Do you understand?"

Angel understood, Dean didn't have a choice but to agree, even though he would be happier if Sam followed them all the way to the car, but figured he could see them from the door and could act if needed.

Sam helped lift Dean from the floor. He kept his arm around him, helping him down the steps, he instructed Angel to stay behind Andrew, watching behind them. They almost made it down the steps, all of them freezing where they stood when the voice returned.

"You can't leave, your treatment isn't done yet."

Angel, from behind everyone, sent a bullet of salt piercing through her ghost father, making him disappear into thin air.

"That felt good!"

She chuckled as they made it to the ground level and towards the door. Sam had them go in front of him and Dean, told Angel if anything was to happen, if he came back for her and Andrew to run like hell.

"You can't leave!" The voice repeated.

Dean was tired of hearing it, he stopped, pulled himself away from Sam, instructing him to make sure they got to the car safely.

"Yeah? You keep saying that." Dean replied, "I'm not going anywhere, you bastard. I'm gonna stay right here and fry your ass."

The ghost let out an evil sounding chuckle. "You'll feel better when your treatment is over." He repeated.

"You know what? I feel better already, just knowing I'm going to end you, once and for all!"

"Your treatment isn't over. There's still more to come. More memories I have to inflict on you before you can be free from them."

Dean was getting really pissed at this ghost doctor, he knew his next words would just piss it off again, but honestly, he didn't care, he just wanted it to shut up.

"Is that what you did to Elizabeth? Did you make her relive her worst memories? Let me guess, were they memories of you? I'm sure you hurt her, the same way you did you son and daughter."

The expression on the doctor changed again, but that didn't stop Dean.

"Yeah, you remember them, don't you? Andrew and Angel. Don't tell me you forgot about your own kids, the ones you loved oh so much."

Dean's voice turned sarcastic with that last part. Again, the pissed off ghost seemed to have more strength than Dean did as he went flying into the wall opposite from where he was standing.

"Dean!" Sam shouted, filling the doctor full of more salt, this time he didn't disappear. "What the hell?" Sam said in shock. "Dean, get up! The salt isn't working!" He shouted as he started pulling his brother to his feet.

"Sam." Dean was in a hurry to get out what he needed to say before the doctor got a hold of him again. "There's something to do with the surgery room downstairs. Something I feel drawn to. Something that's holding him here. I don't know what, you gotta find it, you hear me? You gotta find it, destroy it, or whatever. Just stop him, please. I… I can't keep…"

Before Dean could finish the doctor was in front of him, his hands pressing the sides of his head, Dean's painful screams filling the air, echoing through the empty halls. Sam took off, running down the stairs, making his way to the surgery room where he had found his brother the last time.

He knew he had to hurry. Knew his brother was going to be in pain every second that it took him. He tore through everything, searching for anything he could think of. He had started a small fire, burning things that he came across, surgical items, things covered in blood, he started the fire on the old metal table, the one Dean had been strapped to, he figured, since it was covered in blood, it needed to be destroyed as well.

Panic was setting in as he searched. He knew there was something he was missing, somewhere he hadn't looked. He stopped, calmed himself down, forcing himself to think, he knew his brother was suffering, but the fact he was running around like a crazy man without a plan wasn't helping any. He took some deep breathes and looked around the room. His eyes fell on something.

"There!" He thought as he made his way to the thing that caught his eye.


	16. Chapter 16

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 16

Dean went from screaming in pain, in the empty hallway, to suddenly being tied, by ropes to a chair. Once again, like before, he couldn't see anything. Everything was pitch black, he wasn't sure if his eyes were opened or closed, but it didn't matter because he couldn't change anything if he wanted to. He cried out with pain as his father's belt came crashing down on his bare skin.

This was it. This was the one thing that struck the most fear in him, being tied with ropes and his father's belt, the two things, combined, sent waves of fear through him, even as a young child, that was the one thing that scared him. Monsters never scared him, but ropes and that damn belt did.

The pain through his body getting worse with every strike. His father's belt coming down faster and harder each time, until it felt like there wasn't even a break between strikes, and the force had made it feel like it dug deep into his skin with each contact.

"No! please, no! stop!"

Dean was able to scream this time. Not that it did much good, it didn't stop, he couldn't stop it. He felt his body being lifted with the chair as he was flung into a wall, the old wooden chair he was tied to, shattered into pieces, leaving the parts under the ropes still in place. His dad's belt came down again, this time he was able to strike more than just the front of this body.

The belt hit anywhere and everywhere it could. Still the same speed and force as before the chair was shattered. Dean realized, even though he was freed from the chair, he wasn't able to move. He couldn't get away, couldn't stop the belt from connecting with his bare skin. Suddenly, he was freezing cold, and wet. He was outside, the chair still broken, but the ropes around his wrists and ankles remained, holding small pieces of the chair in place, pulled as tight as they could go, rubbing into his skin, leaving what felt like blood dripping from them.

He recognized this feeling. He was in the snow, freezing, being punished for screwing up in life, yet again. Dean had forgotten where he was at, forgotten this wasn't real. But, it was real. His body could feel everything, he could still feel everything from the night before. Sam… Sam was there, he was going to help him, but, how could he?

He was just a little kid when this happened, they both were, but Sammy was younger, too young to help him. Dean's head swirled, he couldn't figure anything out, couldn't think straight. Maybe the cold had gotten to him? Maybe he was dying? He'd be okay with that, it would stop the torture. He was slammed against the wall again.

This time he landed back on a bed. 'no! no, not this, again, it can't be, please, no' he was unable to speak the words that were running through his head, unable to make any sound at all, his wrists were tied with ropes again, this time they were tied to bedposts. He couldn't go through this again. 'Sammy! Sammy help!' again, he was unable to get the words in his head out into the air.

He heard laughing. Lots of laughing. It sounded like he was surrounded by a hundred men. If only he could see, why couldn't he see? It would make it less scary if he could see what was happening, instead of just listening and feeling. Oh god! Feeling! He didn't want to feel anymore. The pain that just ripped through his body was like every man he was hearing pushed themselves inside of him at the same time.

He couldn't do this. He couldn't handle anymore. He couldn't handle what was being given to him. His mind was shutting down. All he could concentrate on was the pain, the overwhelming, unbearable, pain. He was sure his body was being torn in half, he was sure every human being in the world was forcing themselves into him right now.

Sam had seen a hidden door, a small cabinet. He opened it, inside were the remains of a female. She was wearing a hospital gown, she had long, what looked like, light brown hair. Sam grabbed his phone and snapped a picture. He wasn't sure if this was their mom or not, but just in case, he wanted them to be able to identify her.

This had to be what their dad's spirit was attached to. Sam quickly dumped salt and lighter fluid, covering the body, dropping lit matches onto it as it went up in flames. Quickly, without wasting a second, he darted out of the room, back upstairs to find his brother, to make sure the doctor was gone.

When he reached where he had last seen his brother, he wasn't there. He listened for a minute, hearing a scream come from one of the rooms at the end of the hall. He rushed there, found his brother, lying face down on the floor, screaming in pain.

"Dean!" Sam rushed to his side.

He placed a hand on his back, feeling the freezing sensation and wetness, pulling his hand away he realized his hand was covered in blood, shining his flashlight on his brother, he saw a puddle of blood his brother was laying in, his body completely covered. His clothes hadn't been torn, but his body had. He had slices everywhere, what looked like marks from a belt or a whip of some type.

"Oh god, Dean."

His brother's muscles tightened when he touched him.

"No, please, don't!" Dean whined, not realizing where he was or who had touched him. "I can't… p…please, I can't, not any more… please!"

"Dean, Dean it's me, Sam. It's okay Dean, I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"

Sam grabbed his phone and called Angel, he informed her he had taken care of it but Dean was hurt, bad and he needed her immediately. She knew that meant she couldn't investigate any, but if Sam had taken care of her dad then it would be safe for her to go back another time, right now, her concern was Dean, the same as Sam's. She told Andrew to stay at the house, just in case, and she headed out to get them.

Sam had put his arms around his brother, drooping Dean's arm around his shoulders and he lifted him off the ground. Dean protested, as much as he could. He couldn't physically fight against him, he didn't have the energy left in his body.

"No…. no…" He repeated. "I… I can't… please… don't."

Sam's heart hit the floor a little harder each time his brother pleaded for him not to hurt him.

"Dean, it's okay bro. It's Sam, I got you, it's okay."

Sam repeated his words over and over, hoping at some point his brother would hear him and understand he wasn't going to hurt him. He dragged his brother out of the building. The crisp, cool, night air hitting them in the face. Dean shivered.

"No, I'll be good, I promise, don't put me back out here, please, don't!" His mind went back to the snow he was placed in, the punishment he was forced to endure, not just once, but now twice in his lifetime.

"Dean! It's okay. I'm not going to hurt you! It's me, Sam!"

Sam's voice sounded angrier than he meant to, but he was exhausted, and scared, and just wanted his brother to understand he was okay. That Sam had him and he was safe now. Dean's body tightened under the hateful tone of Sam's voice.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, please, I'm sorry…"

Dean started mumbling, repeating over and over again. Just like the night before, Sam threw his jacket over the fence and hoisted his brother up and over, falling unto the ground. Sam quickly followed, grabbing his jacket, and laying it over Dean. He was freezing, he was freezing before they ever made it outside and Sam had to keep him warm until Angel arrived.

"It's okay, Dean."

Sam sat on the ground beside him, placing his brother's head in his lap. He couldn't believe how much blood was covering his body. He needed to stop the bleeding, and stop it fast, but he couldn't even begin to find out where it was coming from. That would require him to remove his brother's clothes and it was too cold for that, plus, he knew Dean would start freaking out on him if he did.

He wasn't sure what that doctor had done to him, but he swore he would make it hurt, that Dean would suffer. Sam felt terrible, like it was his fault somehow, if only he had found the body sooner. In reality, it didn't take him that long, maybe 15- 20 minutes. There was no way his brother should have suffered so much injuries in that amount of time.

Now, Sam was certain that somehow time had been altered for Dean, the same as the night before. He realized it didn't matter how long he took, or didn't take, his brother would still be laying here, broken. Angel pulled up and helped him get his brother into the car.

Her heart sunk too when she heard Dean pleading with them not to hurt him, protesting that he couldn't handle anymore. Angel sat in the passenger seat and let Sam drive them back. He drove faster and was more experienced at this type of stuff.

They arrived at the house, quickly getting Dean out of the car. Sam had turned the heat on high but it did little to help make Dean's skin feel warmer. He knew he had to get the wet, blood soaked clothes off of him.

"This isn't going to be easy, he's going to fight us, verbally if not physically, but we have to get his clothes off and get him warmed up."

Sam informed Angel, she knew, it wasn't going to make it any easier, but she knew what they had to do.

"We gotta stop the bleeding too" Sam added, "I don't know where it's coming from, I haven't been able to check yet."

Again, Angel agreed.

"Hey, you might want to tell your brother that maybe he wants to go upstairs, this might not be something he wants to experience." Sam added as they made their way into the house.

"Yeah okay." Angel replied.

They gently laid Dean on the floor in front of the fire place. She asked Andrew to get them some warm water and rags as she gathered blankets and towels, anything she could find to keep him warm with. Once Andrew returned with the water he immediately retrieved the first aid kits.

Once he returned with them, Angel had a quick talk with her brother, and he agreed, he didn't want to see this again. He couldn't handle seeing someone hurt so badly, especially now that he knew it was his dad that caused it. Andrew took himself up to his room, putting in ear plugs and turning his music up, loud, drowning out any noises from downstairs.

Sam had started peeling off the layers of Dean's clothes, just as he expected his brother was protesting. Trying to convince him that he would be good, crying that he couldn't take anymore, begging and pleading for them to stop, not to hurt him. Sam couldn't be as gentle and slow with it the way he was the night before.

Dean was soaked in blood and freezing cold, his body that was once shivering, had stopped, but he didn't feel any warmer. Sam knew this was a bad sign, it meant hypothermia was setting in and he needed to get his brother warmed fast. They removed all his clothing, leaving him naked and vulnerable.

Dean's eyes started flooding with tears, in his mind, he was sure he knew what was going to happen next. He started preparing himself for the worse. It never came. They had covered his body with towels and then blankets, Sam started working from the head down, cleaning the blood and stitching gashes in his brother's skin. The same routine as the night before, only this time there were more gashes, his body was covered with them, and they were deep, almost everyone requiring stitches.

Sam worked fast, he knew the more blood he lost, the harder it would be to keep him warm. Angel kept him supplied with fresh, warm water. Once he was finished with the front, he acquired Angel's help to roll Dean onto his stomach so he could take care of his back.

She did, as requested, but didn't stay long, she just couldn't handle it the way Sam could. She couldn't look at injuries this bad. When Sam reached the area that was tortured by the new rape he encountered, his heart sunk just a little more. He knew he required stitches, and quickly worked at stitching and stopping the bleeding the best he could, it wasn't exactly the easiest area to do that in, but he did what had to be done.

He was thankful Dean had seemed to pass out, probably from the pain, he knew how bad it hurt to get stitches without anything to help the pain, and as many as he was putting into his brother's skin, added to the injuries that littered his body, he was sure was more than he would ever be able to handle.

Once Sam had finished cleaning the blood off his brother and assessing all his injuries, stitching everything that needed it. He had asked Angel to get him some warm clothes to put on him, she came back with a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt. He redressed his brother and wrapped him in the blankets. He sat behind him, pulling Dean's top half into his lap, laying his head on his shoulder.

He wrapped his arms around his brother, using his own body heat to help keep him warm. Angel had pulled the couch up to the fire, giving Sam something to rest his back on. Sam suggested she go to bed, reminding her what a long night it had been, he promised to talk to her in the morning about the hunt and what he had found to stop her dad.

She agreed, she was feeling worn down, it had been a long, emotional couple of days. She swore she would sleep until noon if the sun didn't wake her. Sam chuckled, agreeing. They said their goodnights and Angel made her way upstairs, turning out all the lights as she went. The glow of the fireplace was enough light for Sam, he needed Dean to be able to rest anyhow.

"I'm so sorry." Sam said, quietly, to Dean, after Angel had left them alone. "I don't know what to do. I wish I did, but I don't. I don't know how to help you right now, you gotta help me help you. You hear me? You can't be stubborn right now. You gotta pull back around, I need you, as much as you need me right now, Dean."

Sam felt his tears start running down his cheeks. "I love you!" Sam started crying harder. "I need you, please Dean, I need you. I need you to be okay." He wrapped his arms around his brother tighter, staring at the fire, he sat there, feeling completely alone, holding onto his brother, silently crying.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean voice startled Sam, he had drifted off again, but this time he was woken by Dean speaking instead of screaming. "We gonna kiss and make out, or what?" Dean's voice was full of pain, but his sarcastic remarks was the brother Sam was used to.

"Yeah, wanna do it now or later?" Sam replied, thinking a smartass question deserved a smartass answer.

"How about later? Right now, I just wanna lay in your arms and enjoy the fire." Dean replied, feeling proud that he was able to keep up with Sam's sarcasm, usually it wouldn't be a problem. Dean was full of sarcastic remarks, but right now, his body was screaming in pain.

"You alright?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, I'll be fine, hurts like a bitch, but I'll be fine." He paused to let a wave of pain pass through his body. "Did you stop him?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure I did."

"What was it?"

"I'm not sure, I think probably his wife. There was a woman's body shoved in a hidden cabinet, I salted and burned her, when I got back to you, you were moved from the spot I left you, somehow you were in a room at the end of the hall, but he was gone and you were alone." Sam didn't want to say anymore.

Dean nodded his head. "How bad is it?" He asked, trying to sit up, but unable to handle the pain that came with the movements.

"Hey, take it easy. You're pretty banged up this time. You need to be careful, I've had to put a lot of stitches in you, you don't want to tear any of them out."

Again, Dean nodded, he could feel them, he knew his brother bandaged him up. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, letting another wave of pain pass through him, opening them again, he stopped to stare at the fire for a moment.

"It… it hurts, Sammy." He sounded almost childlike, not taking his eyes off the fire.

"I know." Sam replied, softly.

He really did know. He knew his brother would be in a lot of pain when he woke up, but he seemed to be handling it well, even though Sam could hear it in his voice and see it in his eyes. Dean, reached up and wrapped his arm around Sam's arm, squeezing a little harder than he meant to, but Sam didn't protest, he knew Dean needed some way to release the pain his body was holding onto.

"It's okay." Sam reassured him. "It's over now. All you gotta do is recover from these injuries, it'll be okay!"

Sam felt the tears falling down his cheeks again. No matter how bad he wanted to stop them, he couldn't. They didn't go unnoticed by Dean. Nothing ever went unnoticed by him.

"Hey," Dean replied, with a gentle tone. He rolled himself over, not without some added pain, but he needed to be able to look at his brother's face. "It's okay. I'm fine, right? Like you said, it's all over, this healing crap, I got it, don't worry."

Dean wiped his brother's face with the sleeve of his shirt. Then pushed himself to a seated position against the couch, next to Sam. Instantly, he regretted his decision, as pain shot through his body, enough pain to make his stomach do flips and his head started swimming, he didn't have anything in his stomach, that, he was thankful for as he started dry heaving, his body wanted to vomit from the pain. He couldn't help but let the pain release in a cry from his lips as he let his body fall onto its side.

"Bad decision!" Dean grunted out through the pain. He instantly wrapped his arms around his stomach and curled into the ball that he had become all too familiar with.

"Hey, Dean, you okay?" Sam was on his knees beside his brother.

"Yeah, just…. Hurts." Dean was barely able to say those three words through the pain. "Gimme a minute, I'll… I'll be fine… gotta… let…. It… pass." Dean got his words out between his groans of pain. "son of a bitch! This, hurts!" Dean mumbled out once the pain started to ease away.

He still wasn't pain free, wasn't able to open his eyes again, not yet. He knew if he did his head would start swimming and his body would want to vomit again. Sam had his hand on Dean's shoulder, Dean, absent minded, had grabbed Sam's wrist, holding onto it like his life depended on it. Sam was sure his brother was going to leave bruises, but he was okay with that, as long as the pain Dean was feeling went away. Once Dean's head cleared, he opened his eyes again, releasing the hold he had on Sam's arm.

"Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Remind me not to do that again, okay?"

Sam let out a slight chuckle, "Yeah, okay."

Dean chose not to move, he just laid on his side, watching the flames dance in the fireplace. He knew he was safe. He knew he was somewhere he would be taken care of, more importantly somewhere that Sam was safe and would be taken care of. He felt exhausted, but now that he was awake, sleep was out of the question, too much running through his head.

"Hey… Sam?"

"Yeah?"

"Will you… um… will you help me… I need to take a shower… I gotta… I… feel dirty."

Dean's eyes dropped, looking at the floor beneath his head. He had hoped Sam understood what he was trying to say.

"Yeah, um, of course."

Sam pushed himself from his seated position and helped Dean to his feet with as little pain as possible. Dean used Sam's help, more than he could ever remember before, he knew his little brother was strong, but Dean was applying almost all his weight to Sam's shoulder. He tried not to, but he couldn't help it. The pain that rushed through his body, with every step he took, was almost more than he could handle. He was never more thankful to reach the bathroom door.

"I got it from here." He knew Sam had stitched him up, that he knew every injury he had, but it didn't take away the shame Dean felt. "Hey, thanks." He mumbled to Sam before he closed the bathroom door.

He was shocked. When he removed his clothes, the injuries, the lacerations, filled with stitches, that littered his body was more than he could have imagined. It was like every single mark his dad's belt made was on his body at the same time. He felt like his insides were ripped open.

He knew his brother took care of some deep tearing from where… what he could only describe as rape… had taken place. He wasn't even sure if that was the right word for it. It wasn't like anything 'normal'. He laughed at himself at that word, what in his life is ever normal?

He turned the water on, extra hot, again. And repeated his actions from the morning before, scrubbing himself, carefully this time, remaining in the shower until the water turned cold. He could cry while he was in the shower. He learned that a long time ago. No one could hear him through the sound of the water, and there was no evidence left, the tears were washed away with the water. He took full advantage of that this time.

Once he emerged from his time in the bathroom his attempts at trying to appear normal failed when he sat down.

"Son of a bitch!"

Dean let out his cry of pain before he realized he had said it, allowing himself to fall onto his side on the couch. Sam jumped up to help his brother.

"I got this, Sam, I don't need your help with every movement I make."

Dean sounded aggravated. He, honestly, wasn't aggravated at Sammy, he was just tired of the pain and discomfort, tired of his life turning into one big merry go round, seeming like he keeps going around and around the same 'ole things in his life. He was tired of feeling like his heart was being ripped out. Tired of trying to pretend like he was fine.

'Fine', 'okay', those were the two words Dean seemed to say the most in his life, yet the two words that meant the least. He wasn't ever really 'fine', and right now, he wasn't sure if he was even 'okay'. But, he couldn't let them know that. He couldn't appear weak. He needed to be the strong, big brother he's always been.

He hated that Sam had to see him this way. It wasn't this bad, ever. He didn't know how to explain that to his little brother. This, this was different, this was more intense than anything he had ever felt. Felt… feelings… Dean was still feeling cold. He figured it was either from staying in the shower long after the water turned cold, or from the blood loss. Either way, he was still cold.

When had his body started shivering? When did he lose control of his own body? He had covers on top of him, the fire was dancing brightly, he could feel it's warmth on his cheeks, but he was still feeling cold. The cold, it made him feel alone. He had lost sense of where he was at, who was around him. He didn't sense anyone. He just felt cold and alone.

Sammy? Where was Sammy? How could he leave Dean alone? He realized his eyes were closed. Was he asleep? When did he drift asleep? Maybe if he opened his eyes he would find his brother. Maybe he wouldn't be alone? Maybe he wouldn't be so cold? Damn, his body was still shivering, or trembling from the pain, maybe it was a combination of the cold and the pain? He wasn't sure, but he knew he couldn't control his body's movements. He couldn't stop the cold or the pain.

He felt like he was drifting, maybe floating. In space, in a darkness of space. He was drifting into nothingness. His head was filling with a dizzy nothingness. Spinning him through the darkness, through space. He tried to reach out, tried to find something to stop his spinning, his drifting, but nothing was there, not even Sam.

Fear gripped him. His heart beating faster than he thought it should be. He wasn't sure if he was breathing. He didn't feel like he was breathing. Couldn't seem to force a breath in or out. Sudden pain, striking his chest. He couldn't do anything, couldn't react, all he could do was feel the pain, the panic that was filling his bones as he dizzily spun through the darkness of space.


	17. Chapter 17

**CARRY ON WAYWARD ROAD**

 **SPIDERS IN THE WEB**

CHAPTER 17

"SAM!"

Dean drew in a deep breath, shooting to a seated position, his body still filled with the panic, the lost feeling he had felt. He reached out for his brother as he screamed his name. No one was there. He was alone. His hand that held in the empty space in the room was shaking. Then, he felt it, he felt his brother's hand reach out and grab his, calming the shaking to a tremble. Dean forced another breath, dropping his body back to the couch, clutching his brother's hand like he would drift away again if he let go.

"Dean! Hey, dean, it's okay. I got you, I'm right here, it's okay." Sam said with a calm soothing voice, with his free hand he brushed his brother's hair away from his face, checking on the fever he had acquired. He still felt hot.

"It's cold Ssammy." Dean mumbled.

"You have a fever, Dean."

Dean nodded his head, understanding that's why he felt so cold. "I…it… it still hurts!" Dean couldn't seem to get his words out properly, and what words he could say were nothing but a mumble. He couldn't help but realize how broken and weak he sounded.

"Yeah, I bet it does, it's going to take some more time to heal. You've got a nasty infection from all the wounds you got."

"More tt…tttime? Hh…how much ttttime has it…"

"You've been asleep for 3 days." Dean was shocked by Sam's words.

"Tttthhhhree daysss?"

"Yeah, well, it's been 5 days, but the first 2 you were in and out of consciousness, but, the last time you were 'out'… well, this is the first time you've woken up in 3 days. We've been giving you antibiotics, but even through that you didn't really wake, no matter how hard I tried to get you to. I think your infection is starting heal and your fever is coming down. You're getting better. I don't like that you still feel cold, but, hey, at least you're awake. Right? And, your wounds, they're looking better, they seem to be healing pretty good, despite that nasty infection."

"Sam." Dean interrupted. "Babbling."

He couldn't seem to make full sentences. But he needed to make his brother stop talking, at least long enough for his head to calm. He reached up, grabbing his head with both his hands, holding it at his temples. He remembered, the ghost doctor, the way he held his head, the pain it caused. The confusion that flooded his thoughts. The memories that were all too real.

"Hey, Dean?" Sam sounded concerned. "Are you, are you okay?" Sam's eyes filled with what Dean could only assume was fear, fear for him? Fear for his wellbeing?

"I… I don't know, Sammy." Dean was as honest as he had ever been. After a moment of silence, he added, "I will be." Giving his brother a genuine smile and a tightened squeeze to his hand.

"Yeah, yeah you will be." Sam agreed, returning the smile.

The day wasn't easy. It took Dean a while to gain the strength to even move. They forced him to drink fluids, but eating was out of the question. He forced himself to shower, finding himself weaker than he realized, almost unable to stand alone in the shower. Sam was there, waiting when he was finished, helping his brother redress the wounds that were still working on healing. And, give him what help he needed dressing.

Dean was embarrassed, but he was also thankful for his help. He knew, no matter what, he always had his little brother there to help him. The day went by quicker than Dean realized. He had fallen asleep a couple times through the day, being woken to drink fluids and take antibiotics and pain meds.

The next morning, he was feeling a little better, he was able to eat a small amount of food throughout the day. It helped him feel like his strength was coming back, but also caused some vomiting as his stomach adjusted. The following day was a little better, followed by the same amount of improvements day after day.

He was beginning to feel more like himself, more normal. Angel had informed him that what him and Sam had done at the sanitarium worked. She told Dean that she had been there, of course, the first time Sam wouldn't let her go alone until he was sure it was safe, but she was able to visit her mom's room, and her final resting place.

She confirmed, the bones Sam had burned, judging by the picture he took first, was her mom. She told Dean how she had been able to find paperwork, files, on her mom's medical care and diagnoses, including the testing he performed on her. She admitted, some of what she had read made her feel sick, she couldn't believe how much of a monster her dad was.

Dean just chuckled with that comment, he knew how much of a monster he was. He caused him so much pain and distress. He couldn't begin to imagine the hell he was able to put Angel through. He enjoyed her company, truly enjoyed it. He made up excuses to stay longer, hoping he wasn't overstaying their welcome.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean started, now that he was feeling better, he was shooting out orders again. "I don't think the repairs ever got finished, did they?"

"No, I don't think so."

"Wanna work on that? I mean, it's not like there's anything else to do, right?"

Sam knew Dean was trying to make it seem like they were staying around for something other than his injuries. If it was just Dean, he would have already been on the road already, he would have pushed his own pain and discomfort far away and left the moment he first woke up. But, he knew, as well as Dean did, that he was in no shape to travel, no shape to ride in a car, or even sit anywhere, especially at first.

"Yeah, whatcha say, Andrew? You wanna work on some more repairs on this place?"

Andrew agreed and the boys headed outside to work on finishing the projects they started almost 2 weeks ago. Angel was still thankful for them fixing her house. She knew, from the weeks of caring for Dean, watching Sam care for Dean, she knew he was hesitant on leaving him alone.

Angel sat on the couch next to Dean, snuggling herself under his covers, leaning into him. Dean wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. Leaning her head on his shoulder she started to speak.

"Dean, are you okay?"

'why does everyone keep asking me that?' he thought to himself.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be fine." He answered.

"Does it still hurt?"

"Um… yeah… I mean, it's not as bad as it was, it's getting better, but… yeah it still hurts… some."

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"My dad."

"Angel, you don't have anything to apologize for. It wasn't your fault. None of it was your fault."

"It's just… it was my dad, and my mom, and I feel like… I don't know, I feel responsible, you know?"

Dean pulled her closer to him, if that was possible, tightening his grip around her shoulders. "You're not." He said gently as she buried her face into his chest and let her tears fall.

There was nothing Dean could say, nothing to make anything alright. Time, only time could do that. He knew that, it was the only thing that was helping him, helping him heal, helping his fears and confusion become tolerable. It was the only thing helping, little by little, making the pain calm down. He just held her, giving her an outlet, someone to cry on.

He laid his head on top of hers. Watching the flames in the fireplace, listening to the hammers and saws working outside. He felt a peace when he held her, a peace he had never felt before. She had drifted to sleep with her head on his chest, supported by the protection of his arms. It wasn't long before he allowed the calming peace to rock him into sleep after Angel was comfortable in his arms, he was holding her, holding Angel, holding HIS Angel.

Dean was getting better. His strength was back, the wounds mostly healed. He had one or two scabs that hadn't completely healed, but all the bruises were gone and the scars had formed, time would have them fade away into a distant memory. He was eating again without any issue. He slept on the couch, he couldn't bring himself to sleep in the room that used to be the doctor's.

No one questioned it, it was like they all understood. Angel offered him her bed, both with and without her in it, but he refused, said he'd feel more comfortable on the couch. Sam stayed in Andrew's room with him, he continued to encourage him. Continued to show Andrew his strengths and his worthiness in the world.

Dean had, hesitantly, agreed to venture back to the sanitarium with Angel. He was feeling all kinds of messed up the moment he stepped foot in the building again. Sam and Andrew decided they wanted to tag along, just because they could. Dean's feet froze once he was inside the door, no matter how hard he willed himself to move, he couldn't. Sam placed a gentle hand on his brother's back.

"You okay?" He whispered, pulling Dean out of whatever trance he had just been under.

"Uh, yeah." was all Dean could seem to reply as he took a step forward, finally he was able to get his body to move.

The memories in this place were different for him. The others, they had memories of being afraid, of seeing a ghost, of seeing their dad being a ghost, but Dean, Dean had memories that were only his. Memories of being hurt, being abused by the ghost of his memories. He had fear, not that something supernatural would appear, but that something supernatural would take him away, take him back to where he was before, back to the pain.

"It's okay." Sam said quietly.

He was trying not to draw attention to Dean's behavior, trying not to announce his brother's discomfort to the others. But, Sam knew his brother a little too well, and knew he was on the verge of a panic attack. That wasn't something Sam was used to seeing from Dean, usually he held himself together, no matter what he faced, but there had been a few times he wasn't able to keep up the act, he wasn't able to hold himself together. Sam was beginning to recognize those signs in his brother.

Dean walked, absentminded, through the building, not following the others, but, taking his own path. Sam made sure Angel and Andrew would be okay alone.

"I need to stick with Dean, make sure he's okay."

Angel insisted that she completely understood and they would be okay without him. She admitted to seeing the look of emptiness back in Dean's eyes when they arrived. She was beginning to feel guilty for asking him to come with her. She really wanted him to see her mom's resting place. To morn with her.

But, she quickly discovered, that wasn't going to happen, not right now, maybe later, maybe before night fall, but right now, Dean needed to do his own thing, he needed to process what had happened here, and he needed his brother by his side to hold him up the moment he wasn't strong enough.

Dean started by walking to the third floor, and down the hall, he stopped in front of the door to the room he had been locked in. The room their mother once stayed in. Fear gripped him. His heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest. The lump, that was growing in his throat, felt like it was big enough to block any air from entering or exiting, and by the burning in his lungs, he was sure he wasn't breathing anymore.

His head begun to spin, more like that swimming feeling he had gotten so used to. He reached out, grabbing the door frame to help himself stabilize. His hands were trembling, palms covered in sweat. He didn't say a word, didn't make a sound, just stared into the empty room. His stomach started doing summersaults, making the need to vomit get stronger and stronger, as he swallowed back down the sour bile that raised to the back of his throat. He stepped inside the room, carefully, not yet letting go of the door frame.

His legs started feeling like spaghetti. He was sure they were shaking too, but he couldn't tell, he couldn't get his mind to work well enough to know what the rest of his body was doing. He stared at the empty, old metal bed that remained in the room, the mattress to it was flung against the wall. Dean walked toward the bed, unable to get his body to move like he expected, unable to keep his legs stable, he made it beside the bed before his legs failed him and he collapsed to his knees. Sam was there, in a matter of a second, beside his brother.

"Dean?" Sam said in a low, soothing tone.

Dean didn't respond, he just buried his head in both his hands and started to cry. He didn't even try to fight it, didn't attempt to make it stop, he just sat there, on his knees, on the dirty floor in the abandoned room, and let himself freely cry into his own hands.

Sam let him be for a moment before wrapping his arms around his big brother, pulling him into his embrace. Dean moved his hands from his face, returning the embrace, wrapping them tightly around Sam, burying his face into his chest, he continued to allow himself this moment of uncontrolled tears. This moment of, undeniably, much needed release.

He wasn't sure how long they sat there, he didn't know how many tears had fallen. His emotional state, of course, Sammy being Sammy, made his brother emotional too. The top of Dean's head, wet, from Sam's tears. God, he hated seeing his big brother hurt like this. But, he had seen his wounds, had cared for his injuries.

He knew there was a lot of hurt, a lot of emotions that were left in this place. Not just by his brother, but by the souls that once occupied these rooms. Once Dean had finished his crying session, and his body slowed from a shaking to a slight trembling, without a word, he released his brother, pushing himself away from the place he found so safe, so comforting. He stood to his feet, Sam quickly doing the same.

Dean walked out of the room, Sam following. Once both brothers were in the hall, Dean turned around, looking into the room one last time, and closed the door, making sure it was closed tight. Every other door in the place was open, but this one needed to be closed. Sam wasn't sure why Dean felt that it needed to be, but he didn't ask either. Dean turned his attention back to his brother.

"Where's the others?" He asked and he wiped the remaining wetness off his face.

"I think they are in the basement, Angel wanted to see her mother's resting place, again."

Dean just nodded, and headed down the stairs. Once they arrived at the top of the basement stairs, he stopped.

"You lead the way, college boy, I don't know my way around down there." Dean stated.

Sam agreed and went ahead, making sure his brother was still following behind him. He could see Dean hesitate for a moment before entering the surgery room. "Dean!" Angel cried out, running to him, wrapping her arms around him. "I wanted you to be here with me. I wanted you to see my mom's final resting place."

You could see where the cabinet door was opened and the body had fallen out, Sam, having no time to waste, set the bones on fire right where they laid. The pile of salted ashes laying on the floor. Angel kept her hold on Dean as he wrapped his arm around her, pulling her in with a tight embrace.

Together, they both stood there, just staring at what was once her mom's body. It had started getting dark, the sun was threatening to leave and take all their light with them. That was their sign that it was time to go. They, silently, said their goodbyes to her, and left the place.

Angel said she wouldn't be back. She wanted the place gone, wanted it burnt to the ground. Dean was more than happy to make that happen. They drove the car far enough away that they wouldn't be considered suspects, and stopped to watch the flames light up the sky. The structure that had been abandoned, the one that held so much suffering, so much pain, so much death, crumbled to the ground under the heat of the dancing flames.

Dean couldn't help but think the flames were dancing because they were, for once, happy. They were happy to be taking away the painful memories, never again allowing anyone else the horrors he had felt. Once they heard the sirens in the distance, and was satisfied that there was no saving the structure, they drove back to the house.

Dean hated this. It was always the hardest, especially after so much they had been through. All the needed repairs were completed. The house was brighter, warmer, felt more like a home instead of a dungeon. Their fridge was stocked with food, everyone felt at peace.

Andrew was talking again, loved interacting with everyone. He didn't seem to stay in his room at all, only to sleep. He had even taken a trip to town, with Sam, and didn't freak out. He saw people he knew, giving them a nod and a silent hello. No longer concerned what anyone thought of him.

"How can I ever thank you?" Angel said, with a tear in her eye.

"By taking care of your brother, that's all I ask. He's going to have some hard times in front of him. There's days he's going to feel less than adequate, and you need to be there for him when he does. His confidence will flaw, fix it, make him whole again. That's the only thanks I need."

Dean's answer left a tear dripping down his cheek and he pulled her into his chest, both his arms wrapped tight around her. She returned the hug. They remained that way a little longer than they planned on, but, it just felt, right.

"Promise me, if you're back in this area, you'll stop in for a visit?" Angel said as she pushed herself out of the embrace.

"I promise." Dean replied with a smile.

It wasn't a forced smile, it as a sincere smile, one that was full of love and heartache, at the same time. She returned the smile, filled with the same emotions as Dean's. He turned his attention to Andrew.

"Take care of your sister, okay?"

Andrew agreed and walking over to her, placed his arm around her shoulders.

"Take care, be careful out there." He replied, giving Dean a handshake, followed by a one-armed hug.

Dean nodded, his way of saying 'will do', and the brothers exited the house, Dean closed the door behind him, closed the door to the first thing that had felt like home, felt like family, for as long back as he can remember. Dean, sat behind the steering wheel of his Baby, Sam beside him in the passenger seat.

"We could stay a little longer, you know, if you wanted to." Sam said, trying not to completely break the silence, but feeling the need to remind his brother they were entitled to a life too.

Dean just shook his head, turned the key in the ignition, filling the empty space forming in his heart with the sound of the purring engine. Giving the house one more look, he pulled out of the drive, heading back toward the road. The road that had taken the brothers to so many places. The road that had seen it all. The road had seen the heartaches and love.

It has witnessed the laughter and the tears. The road has had blood shed on it, and was saved from the blood that should have dripped from others. The road, the place that was home. The only place Dean was certain he would never have to leave. The road was a comfort, the only thing that seemed to be normal in his life, that and the car that he drove on that very road, and the passenger that sat beside him. That was all he really needed. His life was complete as long as he had those three things.

"Where we headed to?" Sam asked, breaking Dean's thoughts.

He was silent for a moment, not really sure. They didn't have anywhere they were heading to, no case they had caught onto.

"Home." Dean smiled as he pulled onto the main road out of town. "We're heading home." Dean repeated, pushing in his tape as the familiar music filled the car.

Sam, smiling back, leaned his head against the window. "Let me know when we stop." He said as he closed his eyes and drifted asleep, knowing they were already home.


End file.
